


Death's Requiem

by yourrhinestoneeyes



Category: Metalocalypse
Genre: Cannibalism, F/M, Gen, God Fic, Gore, M/M, Romance, Sex, Violence, Zombies, major character deaths, open ended ending, zombie content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2014-10-06
Packaged: 2018-02-18 11:17:19
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 24,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2346515
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yourrhinestoneeyes/pseuds/yourrhinestoneeyes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toki wants to clip SKwisgaar's wings, he doesn't understand why he can't fly too.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Our Last Days on Earth (I remember you)

He hadn't meant to kill him, the person he had been for twenty-three years of his mortal life had not meant to kill Skwisgaar. The creature he had been becoming over the years had meant to. When the world started to die, when the night air was filled with the screams of people dying, the Earth was breaking up in pieces, and everything was consumed in flames. When things turned, when it all turned into something new he had started to turn into something new too. All five of them had been changing, they splintered off in their own directions; voices drew them to where they were meant to be. The voices of spirits carried on the wind whispering soft spoken words into their ears that sent chills down their spines. They each followed the voices, they each allowed a deep down instinct to take over. The only two who really remained in the middle, on main land had been Skwisgaar and Toki. The voices in and outside of their heads didn't tell them to go to the ocean or into the forestry. Voices told Skwisgaar he had to go into the sky, but he didn't understand why or how.

Toki remembered nights right when it all started to fall to shit. He remembered sitting on Skwisgaar's bed, he would watch him; the blond haired man was falling to pieces. He would sit with his face in his hands crying over the pain searing in his brain. There was nothing neither of them could do to help it, to ease it.

“It fucking hurts....My head feels like it's on fucking fire.”

He had wanted to help him, he really had. Toki wrapped his arms around his waist and kissed his back, it didn't help, but he wanted to keep Skwisgaar with him. Not once, never once did he confess to Skwisgaar about his own pain. He felt weakened and strong all at once, there was something cold and sharp clutching onto his heart making it hard to breathe. This wasn't about him, besides Toki had known for so many years now there was something about himself that wasn't right. So he gave what comfort and love he had left to Skwisgaar. He held him in his arms, he pet his fingers through those glorious golden locks of hair. He would caress his pale sunken in cheeks and press his lips against the bumped bridge of his prominent nose. Skwisgaar would touch him too, he would place his hand over Toki's scarred chest to feel his heart beating.

“I can barely feel your heart beating.” He commented, he tried to make it sound like something he just noticed casually, but something in his voice sounded worried.

Toki would take hold of his hand and kiss his fingers, he would kiss his lips. His tongue would run over his lower lip and he would realize that somehow Skwisgaar tasted like life. Something deep inside himself wanted to take it from him, resented him for how alive he was despite the pain it was causing him. They spent so much damn time in that room. So much time lying in bed together looking out large looming windows, in the far off distance they could see the world dying. They could see the fiery comets fall from the Heavens and light the world on fire. Some places were on fire, others flooded, and in some the Earth just broke apart and swallowed everything whole. Without saying it they both knew, they knew they were changing and losing themselves. Their friends had lost themselves already, they had left long ago. The two guitarists wanted to stay though, they needed to stay until the pain and the voices forced them out of their comfortable little safe haven, their shared happy place. They just needed this. Just a little bit longer, a few days, maybe a year. Toki never wanted to tell him that he could feel himself turning into something bad, something he had only caught glimpses of in the past. He was something dangerous, but something just as natural as the trees. He didn't need his friend to know. He didn't need him to know that the voice whispering to him told him to take Skwisgaar's life. He didn't need to know.

It just made him feel the need to protect him all the more. The blond haired man fooled himself into thinking Toki was the one who needed protecting; he looked so frail, he was blinded in his left eye, and walked with a slight limp. He was weak, but he could hold his own; Skwisgaar just needed to keep him safe. This was the one person that he could not lose in this life. Toki knew that he felt this way, he appreciated it. It made him love him that much more, it made him hate what would take place some day all the more. Every day they spent in their home, in that room they were together. They shared every secret, thought, hope, and fear. They kissed, they had sex, and until the drugs ran out they spent months getting high. Every time Skwisgaar told him that he loved him it hurt, but as time progressed he felt less and less when those words left his friend's mouth. That was what scared him. 

They parted ways when Toki's heart was no longer beating, he no longer had the use of breathing; it was a useless waste. It was the same day that blackened wings were slowly sprouting out of Skwisgaar's back, Toki remembered looking at them. Seeing these feathery stubs pushing through pale flesh, the blood trickling down his skin and staining his jeans. Upon seeing them something dark inside of his mind made his head throb, something that made him hate Skwisgaar for what he was becoming. That was the day that they parted ways; it would be some time before they would see one another again.


	2. Pointless Wars (I've been tired for years now)

Over time he learned he hated him for his wings. 

The five of them learned that something along the way had gone wrong, they were part of a delicate balance, and all it took was the scale tipping just the tiniest bit in the wrong direction for everything to go wrong. Things had gone horribly wrong. That was why the five of them were best apart, maybe some day they could rejoin? Toki could still feel something human inside of himself no matter how small it was. There was some sense of disappointment when he would place his pale nearly gray hand over his chest to feel for the beating of his heart only to feel nothing. He would spend hours checking pulse points, checking his heart, and would even fake breathing. He needed to feel human, he missed being alive; God so many times he had considered taking his own life, months he had spent holding onto Magnus' leg and begging him to slit his throat. Now he finally had his wish, but this wasn't what he had meant by wanting to die, this was not what he wanted. This was what he had been born for, his parents had known all about this. They had not been lying when they cursed him as a demon, every ritualistic chore had been a test to see if he really was what they believed he might be. It was too bad that Death really couldn't die.

He could end the lives around him and he did. Rage accompanied his loneliness, his depression managed to spread disease. There were so many ways to take a life. In his deepest depressions he only had to touch somebody and watch as they were infected with whatever emotional venom was flowing through his blackened veins. Through his pale ashen skin on his right hand his veins shown quite visibly, black as night and a sort of sickness flowed through them. He noted as time wore on that the skin was rotting in places, his nails were cracked and dirty looking a lot like the wings of a beetle. He wondered if his entire being would decay and leave behind nothing but ash, but the voices on the wind told him other wise. Toki remained in the cities, in the center of this chaos. He watched major wars, he watched miniature wars, but they would always end the same way. He would grow bored or the rage would fill him, the part of him taking over hated them. He hated the way that they fought like idiots, their idiotic causes, and their irritating screams. 

They were stupid, he wanted them to shut up. Why wouldn't they just shut the fuck up?

He would take their lives, but they wouldn't stay that way for too long. Bodies were strewn all over the street, blood soaked into the cracked and dirty asphalt. He walked among them, their blood stained his boots, and his deadened eyes scanned over their mutilated forms. There had been a time he thought he could only take a life, but he discovered he could create life. Not in the way that Skwisgaar could, he used to be able to make love to a beautiful woman and she would spawn a gorgeous blond haired child. Toki couldn't do that, his method was so far from beautiful. He cursed these people with life; he watched their eyes come back to life and the pain etch into their faces. When they came back to life they came back screaming in pain, God it looked like it hurt, but he was in pain too. His chest ached and there were voices in his head like static on a dead radio station. Something wicked made him smile as he brought them all back to life, he watched the bodies writhe on the blood coated streets. They were his, they would always be his until he grew tired of them. 

Over head he would hear the powerful beating of wings, he would look up towards the reddened sky that never seemed to change and see something beautiful. Now to say any of them were beautiful in the general sense that one usually means would be wrong. They were chaotically beautiful, psychotic, and monstrous. Toki found it beautiful to look upon the winged beast in the sky with large black wings, only Skwisgaar never came close enough to touch. It angered him, because that voice sweetly told him that he needed to clip his wings.

Out of frustration he swung his scythe decapitating two of his latest soldiers. They let out weak slow witted grunts of pain as the blade sliced through their thick necks. The crunching and squashing sound used to bother him, so did the sound of their heads thudding onto the wet ground. Now he simply stood there watching, bemused. Their heads rolled for a few seconds, their glazed eyes looked up at him blinking slowly, mouths gaping open. Their bodies dropped to their knees then fell onto their sides, legs, and arms twitching in spasms. Twelve seconds, they would still. They would be dead again, off to Helheim they would go. The twenty-eight other walking dead stared at him, they were too dumb to care that he had just slaughtered two of their own. They were too dumb to care that he took their lives in the first place.

Stupid, idiots, so many fucking idiots. At least they were quiet now. He preferred it now that they were quiet and they would always be that way. Now they couldn't say dumb things that would anger him.

It still wasn't the same. In his head he could only picture gorgeous flowing locks of golden hair, piercing blue eyes, and those glossy black wings. To touch him again would be heaven, but Toki's wings had been clipped from the moment he had been born. He looked down at the ground, he could just see the shadows of his own non existent wings on these blood stained streets. He'd been Earth bound for so long now, why couldn't he fly too?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm still not quite sure how long this story will go on for or the changes/twists that will take place, but I will possibly add other characters in the future.


	3. We Were Meant For This (This is killing me)

He wasn't hunting him per say, but he knew the time would come that their paths would cross. The voices told him that the day was today. There was a nervous excitement in the pit of his stomach at the prospect, at the prospect of allowing at least one piece of this prophecy to take place. One of the things they could still manage to do and maybe just maybe things could be okay again.

He wasn't sure why he let himself think that way, he knew better.

He stalled in the streets, his army of the undead staggered around waiting for his orders. He had nothing for them, not today; this was for him and him alone. He had been waiting so long for this to happen, because being Death was lonely. He needed somebody by his side, somebody beautiful, and full of life. He desperately wanted to remember what being alive was like, what the heat of a body felt like, and the sound of a beating heart.

It was midday when Skwisgaar arrived; he came down from the sky followed by flights of winged beasts, but they hung back. Just like Toki's army of the undead they stayed a respectful distance away, they were going to wait for orders from their leaders. The two stared at one another and in that moment they both discovered how mad they had become. Skwisgaar smirked, he looked like he could laugh or cry; Toki shared the sentiment, but refused to show it. He held his head high and gripped tightly to the handle of his scythe, he eyed the pristine sword that Skwisgaar was wielding. He was so immaculate that it made Toki envious, it made him sick, and it made the static in his head rage on like it was fighting a war with itself. Skwisgaar's large black wings fluttered lightly, bringing ash and dirt into the sky with each move that they made. His eyes shone brightly, almost like they were glowing. His skin was pale and porcelain, it looked like any firm touch could break him into a thousand pieces that could never be put together again. His hair flowed down over his shoulders, back, and his bare chest nearly reaching to his stomach. He was beautiful and he was chaotic. This was the way it was meant to be, history was doomed to repeat itself when mistakes were made.

Skwisgaar charged at him, half way across the street he lifted himself off of the ground in hopes of getting a hit at his old friend. Toki easily dodged out of the way, he swung his scythe hoping to cut into his calves, but Skwisgaar moved his legs out of the way when he caught glimpse of the blade coming towards him. When Toki had his back to the winged creature he felt something hit him hard between his shoulder blades throwing him onto his knees. A foot connected with the back of his head throwing him face down onto the blood soaked street. He moved before the blade of that damned sword could slice through his skull. He rolled onto his back and quickly jumped to his feet, he charged at Skwisgaar this time head butting him in the stomach. He wrapped his left arm around the older man hurling him backwards, he released him when he began beating his wings; the force of the movement knocked Toki back, but this time he didn't fall. He stood his ground glaring up at this arrogant creature, this once arrogant man he envied and loved endlessly. 

The voices were raging and so was he, he snarled up at him, and was confused to see there was no hate or snide look upon that beautiful face. He almost looked remorseful for what they were doing, Toki was too blinded by his rage in the moment to care. He lunged again, he swung the blade, and this time he hit; Skwisgaar jumped back too slowly this time. The blade sliced across his stomach, a shallow cut that wouldn't kill him, but it drew a howl of pain from this beautiful God. Skwisgaar landed back on shaky legs, he looked up at him with a face twisted with pain. Toki could only smirk, sharp teeth glistening. Skwisgaar took flight again, but he never went too high. When he came down he kicked the younger God in the throat knocking him back; if this had been a year ago that might of knocked the wind out of him or even killed him. When Skwisgaar came close enough Toki grabbed his ankle and roughly jerked him out of the sky. This sudden move caught the blond by surprise, he was pulled from the sky and thrown down onto the street hard enough to crack the asphalt. Toki found himself standing over him, he kept his weapon pressed against his neck and stared down at him. His black wings were spread out over the street nearly reaching the buildings on either side, his once warm eyes looked up at him with frustration. Toki only regarded him with numbness; he felt too many things right now, so much so that it left him cold and numb. Part of him wished that he could break down and cry. He forgot what crying was like. 

Skwisgaar grabbed the handle of the scythe that Toki held in his hand, he shoved at it with strength the younger man didn't know he held. He propelled himself forward, wings lifting him up, and at once knocking The God of Death back. Skwisgaar pulled the weapon from his hands tossing it far out of his reach, he wrapped a hand around Toki's throat squeezing hard enough he could hear crunching. The dark haired man smiled up at him, if he could die he would love it. Skwisgaar threw him back against the side of a car, the metal dented and the passenger window broke. He retrieved his sword from the ground then threw Toki down onto the ground. He placed a foot on his stomach and poised the blade over his chest ready to plunge. Would it even kill him?

The voices hissed, they were angry. He was not supposed to die, Death could not die, and they would be damned if they let this happen.

“Sk-Skwisgaar takk, jeg elsker deg, kan du....Kill me.” He pleaded, begged.

He stared up into his old lover's eyes, he needed to die, because maybe if he died this would be over. He was filled with a dangerous venom and could cause nothing but pain. He didn't want this to play out the way that the voice told him to. 

Skwisgaar stilled, the blade was just barely pressing against Toki's chest. Something flickered across his features, something changed, and tears fell from his eyes. He watched as Skwisgaar cried, cried for him, for both of them. His tears landed on the younger God's skin, so warm. 

“Tokis?”

It was too bad they couldn't have what they wanted.

Something snapped and something dark took over inside of Toki's brain. He grabbed the blade with both hands ignoring the way it sliced into his skin and the way his black blood poured over it and onto his own ashen flesh. He pushed with such strength that it knocked Skwisgaar to the ground. Within seconds Toki was on him, in one more second the blade was plunged through the blond haired God's chest piercing his heart and taking his life. Toki held the sword with shaking hands, his hair curtained his face hiding it from the view of the armies of winged beasts and the undead. He met Skwisgaar's eyes watching that ethereal light fading from them, he saw his lips turn up in the slightest hint of a smile one last time before it was over. For one second Toki got to remember what crying felt like again.

His movements after this were methodical, all part of what was meant to be. He moved away from the body of the winged God and retrieved his scythe; he returned to his body. Toki pulled the sword from his corpse, the blade made a wet plopping sound as it was removed. He laid it gently on the ground as if it were something as fragile as the man it had been buried inside of. He used the toe of his boot to roll the corpse over onto its stomach. Toki held up one black wing and sliced the blade of his weapon through the feathers, bone, and veins. He numbly repeated the process with the second wing, once done he rolled Skwisgaar's body onto his back again. He picked him up cradling him in his arms, he brushed his blood soaked hair out of his face and pressed his lips against his forehead. 

Toki turned his attention to a corpse lingering near by.

“Take my weapons to the warehouse, now.”

The corpse obeyed the order though they never moved as quickly as he would have liked. He sighed, frustrated; he looked up towards the sky where winged beasts watched this scene. He wondered if they would mourn the loss of their father, but he highly doubted it. Toki turned his back on them and went back to the warehouse he resided in. It wasn't home, he hadn't had a home for so long now. He carried his fallen friend's body back into a sectioned off area he declared as his own space. The room was medium sized, the walls painted black, a twin sized bed in the corner, a single light hanging over head, and a chest of drawers on the other side of the room. He gently lay Skwisgaar down on the bed not caring blood was getting on the deep burgundy colored sheets. He went to the dresser opening up the top drawer, he did his best to not look at the photographs from back when they were completely human. Back when they had been happy, alive, and life seemed like a simple cycle. He grabbed out the dark brown wooden box he needed and went back to the bed. 

“You knew this would happen.” He said to the corpse.

Toki combed his fingers through Skwisgaar's hair. He sat the box down on the bed and retrieved the needle and thread. He distanced himself from this, but that wasn't hard these days. This was just different from his usual kills and recruits, this was so much different. He went to work on closing the entry wound, he pulled the skin together and began pushing the needle through. He had enough practice at this that he had become quite efficient. It only took him ten minutes to finish with the entry wound and now he could move on to the back. He rolled Skwisgaar onto his front and went to work on the exit wound, next would be his wings or at least what was left. There were still these black nubs sticking from his shoulder blades. Toki was careful, though he didn't know why he was being so delicate. He cut them out and sewed up where they once were, the stitches were the only remaining proof that he had ever had those wings. He was Earth bound just like Toki.

He moved his partner onto his back again, he looked down at his lifeless face, and wanted to apologize. He wanted to be human enough, normal enough to apologize. He wanted to wake up from this nightmare. Bringing back life could work in many ways, mostly depending on his state of emotion, what he needed, and on him touching the recently deceased. Everything within him needed Skwisgaar to be alive again. Toki placed a hand against his cheek, he leaned in close and pressed his lips against Skwisgaar's. Memories of the thousands of times they had kissed flooded his mind. This wasn't then, he was kissing a cadaver, but within seconds lips were moving against his in a very sluggish acknowledgment. Toki pulled back and looked down at the one who used to be the God of Life, Skwisgaar pulled himself into a sitting position. He looked at Toki through dead sapphire blue eyes that used to shine brightly. He looked as dead as Toki. 

“Welcome back” 

He felt like he would cry, like he would just lose it completely and break down in tears, but no. Instead he laughed, he laughed until everything ached and he felt like every ounce of sanity was far out of his reach. It was all the sicker and funnier when he looked up at Skwisgaar to see him regarding him with the same stupid dead expression that his army held. This was his life now and it always would be, because this was what he was meant for.


	4. Broken Dolls (I'm sorry I ruined you)

Something inside his mind, something innocent, and childish believed that Skwisgaar would be okay. He told himself he could keep him perfect, keep him clean, but that wasn't true. Now he was just another creature, another reanimated corpse that stared at him with glazed blue eyes. He followed him around like a dog following its owner, mindlessly loving its owner with no reason to do so. Toki hated him so much, he hated looking at his pallid face, and his dead eyes. The first day that he had Skwisgaar by his side he did his best to get him to react, to prove that he wasn't like the others. He needed him to still be himself, he needed him to not be infected by this curse. He had remained in his room sitting on his bed with the blond haired man sitting across from him. He would try and hold his hand, but Skwisgaar would only stare down at their hands. His hand remained limp like he wasn't sure what was expected of him. When Toki caressed his cheek he didn't react, there had been a day he would have leaned into Toki's touch and smiled at him. There had been a time when he would take his hand, kiss his palm, and tell him he was beautiful. Not anymore; he wasn't beautiful anymore and Skwisgaar wasn't alive, he was a play thing. It took Toki hours of trying, of holding him, combing his fingers through his hair, saying his name, and kissing him. Kissing Skwisgaar made him feel sick, when he swiped his tongue over his lower lip he no longer tasted life, he tasted his own disease. After hours he grew sick of this, he grew angry. He threw the zombie from his bed. Skwisgaar landed in a heap on the floor, motionless just like the others.

“Get up, stand up Skwisgaar!”

The corpse slowly pulled itself up until it was on its knees. It looked up at him with those eyes, those eyes that were meant to follow dumbly and worship without question.

“Do you even know your own fucking name anymore? Do you? Tell me your name!”

He couldn't talk, he wasn't Skwisgaar; he was a creature. He could feel his rage and the demon inside of him thrumming in his very bones. Toki hauled off and kicked the taller man in the mouth, the back of his head slammed against the wall. Blood poured from his mouth going down over his chin and dripping onto his chest. Those eyes still looked up at him, they showed no pain or emotion. Just a thing. He was a thing.

Toki felt scared, he hadn't been scared for such a long time now. He raked his fingers back through hair that wasn't as thick and soft as it had been when his heart used to beat, when his skin had had a slight tan to it, and he wasn't some rotted beast. Toki got up from the bed, he grabbed Skwisgaar by his shoulders and shook him violently. No response, nothing. He smacked him hard across the face and screamed at him.

“Answer me! Say something Skwisgaar!”

There was never anything, not a blink or a twitch of his lips. He was kneeling there doing nothing. Toki couldn't help himself, couldn't help the rage and the fear and the resentment that he felt. He kicked him hard in the chest and the stomach, he pulled him by his hair throwing him face down on the floor and continued to kick and to punch until it was out of his system. He stood there with balled up fists, he looked at his bloodied ashen skin and his beetle wing finger nails. He looked at the balled up figure on the ground, looked at the stitches on his back. There was blood pooling beneath his pale form. Toki dropped to his knees by his side, he gently rolled Skwisgaar onto his back so he could see him. So he could pull him into his arms and hold him. He combed his fingers through his blond hair, he ignored his vacant eyes. 

“This isn't what I wanted, I didn't want this. I didn't want any of this.” He whispered, he buried his face against the older man's chest.

He wanted to cry, but he couldn't do it anymore. Skwisgaar's body was so cold, he wreaked of the dead. He wasn't beautiful and alive, Toki had only wanted to take his wings. He had only wanted to keep him from flying and being free. The voice in his head laughed, the static roared, because everything was going right just this once. He didn't care, what part of him remained human didn't care about the prophecy or what was meant to be. He didn't mean to kill his boyfriend, he didn't want to lose his home, or his family. He didn't want to rule the army of the undead that was in the other room. He wanted to wake up. He wanted to wake up from this terrible nightmare.

Toki placed Skwisgaar back onto the bed, he crawled under the sheets and lay with him. He wrapped an arm around his waist and lay his head against his chest. There was no heart beat, they shared something now; their hearts no longer beat for one another. He laughed at how stupid that sounded in his own head. 

God he missed sanity.

He knew Skwisgaar wouldn't sleep, he would simply lay there and wait for Toki to tell him to go and do something else. That would be later, if ever; there was something wrong about ordering Skwisgaar around. He used to do what he wanted to do no matter how dumb or selfish, that was what Toki had always loved about him. 

As he fell into sleep he wondered if he would be gifted enough to dream back on old times when they had all been human and happy together. If this would be like any other night then his dreams would be plagued with visions of the world as it currently was. He could catch glimpses of his once friends when he had these dreams.

He could spot Pickles in his place, but he was never sure where it was. It was some place dark with streaks of green light, he was seated upon a gray stone throne. His eyes glowed green and he watched over everything, over nothing; Toki was pretty sure that the drummer could see everything that happened. He was never sure if he slept or if he had given up on it, there was so much going on in the world that he had to keep a watch over. Too many things to take a break and allow himself sleep, Toki could feel that Pickles was growing tired of this life. They all were.

Nathan remained in the ocean; initially he had worried that he wouldn't come back to life. In the back of his mind he had been nervous about walking into the depths of the ocean and breathing the salty water into his lungs filling them up. The whales, the siren songs hadn't lied though; he would die in the ocean and he would be resurrected in the ocean. He came back as something new, something strong. His body changed, he turned into something equipped to go from the water to the land. He didn't look like a mermaid, he looked more like a serpent with the torso of a man, he wielded a trident, and fought against every bastardized creature that threatened him. He noticed that a lot of demons came towards the ocean, they wanted him dead; he was the leader of the prophecy, but that was over. They had fucked something up and now they were bound to these different parts of the world. Toki often thought he looked majestic, beautiful, and impossible to defeat. Death could defeat anybody though.

Murderface remained in the depths of the forestry. Toki could never spot just where, he could see them, but he didn't know the exact locations. He was sure it was a way of keeping them all safe from one another. The bassist looked different too, he looked savage and wild. His eyes glowed red and his nails had turned into claws over time. He had made a throne for himself out of the bones of men and animals he had slain. He had adapted quickly to his new environment, had adapted to this new life as something else. It made him feel empowered, like he truly was better than all the rest. He was a solitary God, no real surprise there. Toki knew each time that he spotted his old friend that taking his life would probably be easy, Murderface liked to believe he was a great warrior God, but in reality he would fall to his knees easily.

Toki enjoyed seeing his friends, seeing what they were evolving into, and what they were doing. Back before he had clipped Skwisgaar's wings he used to be able to see him too. He would watch him flying through darkened skies and into reddened ones, he envied his freedom and beauty so much. He knew that if they all came together the results would be dangerous;they were not meant to be within reach of one another. If that happened they would die.


	5. War and Loss (Dearly Departed)

Nathan heavily blamed himself for the outcome. He had been the leader of their group, back in the old days that didn't mean a whole lot. It meant that he was the only one out of his group of friends that could do a damn good metal growl. When they brought Toki into their band that meant he was in charge of looking after the then sixteen year old, because well it didn't take that long for Skwisgaar to grow bored of babysitting as he called it. Nathan hadn't minded all too much, he enjoyed being around the kid, and even as Toki grew older he still didn't completely hate having to watch after him. He hadn't minded watching after any of his friends, because as the leader it was what he was supposed to do. Ofdensen told him often that it was his job to make decisions, to keep his friends safe, and to face consequences of his bad choices. That he had hated, that scared him; it scared him as much as the sweet voice in his head telling him to always to go into the ocean. She told him it was safe, it was fine, and it would embrace him more warmly than any lover. He spent years running from her voice, from the whale song. It scared the fuck out of him, but over time it grew stronger and he resisted less and less. He trusted her, he trusted the creatures of the ocean, because why would they lie to their king?

It was incredible what time could change, how he could change. He felt like he was home, the ocean was his home; he spent so much of his life trying to find a place where he belonged. The ocean was where he was meant to be, he felt so comfortable and confident here. There were no people, he had never been great with people, but sometimes he missed them. He missed the people he'd had in his life sometime long ago. He missed his brothers. He missed Abigail. He tried his best to not think about her, it made something in his chest hurt when he remembered her. They had been happy, once they had gotten over what had happened. After she had died that was when he had decided he had to leave, had to give into the voice of the whale and go to the ocean. The whales promised him that he would live, that he would die, but it would be painless. He would come back to life and he would be stronger than he had been as a mortal man, but even if they had lied to him he didn't care. He was too depressed and desperate to care. He had really loved that woman, she never used him or abused him.

That was the past, he didn't have time to let himself dwell on that. There was always something that he had to take care of, another war. There was always a war, a battle, but it wouldn't end. Not now, not in the near future. 

Nathan moved through the ocean pushing against the currents, creatures like him, and other things followed behind. They had their armies and he had his own, their armies were weak. Once they reached shore he realized he moved more quickly, it was the downside to the oceanic life; under water his massive body couldn't move at fast speeds, but on land he moved faster than any large snake. On the shore there were demons and men, the men wore army uniforms that had seen much better days and maybe a few years ago would have meant something, but now they meant nothing. The demons stood large, looming, and covered with bulging muscles. Their red eyes glowed in the darkness and sharp teeth gnashed like they were just waiting to devour him and his army, but they wouldn't get the chance. 

He drove the spears of his trident through the chest of a soldier that charged at him, the man's green eyes widened in pained surprise. He looked up into the smirking face of the black haired God that was taking his life. Nathan pulled his weapon from the man's body, blood spurted out like water from a hose staining his skin and scales. The body fell and others came forward, but his soldiers were more well trained than the human ones. While his soldiers took on mortal men he placed his focus on the demons, they wanted him badly. Every creature of Heaven and Hell wanted the five prophets dead, they had fucked up the session; they had played it wrong and it needed to be restarted. Nathan didn't want to end things though, not now; he wasn't going to go out getting killed by some black scaled demons.

He sliced through their thick flesh, through muscle, and bone. Their blood spurted from headless necks like fountains. While he pierced one through the face another got out of his line of vision and attacked him. Nathan let out a low growl when the demon's talons dug into his stomach and its teeth sunk in above where its talons were firmly planted. He tossed the corpse of the creature he killed, he reached down grabbing the offending demon by the throat and pulling it roughly from his body. He could hardly feel the blood seeping from the deep open wounds in his torso. He held the creature up so he could look into its glowing ruby eyes, he snarled at it and it tried to bite at his face. Nathan squeezed its throat until it was choking and gagging, he squeezed until he heard the crunching and hissing as it took its final breath and its air ways were completely crushed inwards. He threw its body down onto the sandy ground.

“Stupid fucking demons.” He mumbled to himself, annoyed.

He surveyed the scene of the slaughter; a beach coated in dead demons, dead soldiers, and to his dismay at least twelve dead sea beasts. There were always more to take their place though, millions willing to die in the name of the God of the ocean. 

Nathan turned and went back into the water, his remaining soldiers following after him. In the depths he breathed in deeply, the water filled his lungs filling him with the breath of his new life. He closed his eyes and collected himself, he was remembering things from his old life again. He was thinking about Mordhaus, about playing shows, about his brothers, and Abigail. He felt a clammy hand against his cheek, he placed his hand over the hand of the woman touching him. He used to love the way that Abigail would touch him, the way she would press her lips against his forehead and whisper that she loved him. She had a beautiful voice, she was perfect in so many ways. 

Lips pressed against his forehead, a sweet sing song voice whispered that she loved him. He opened his glowing eyes and looked at the dark skinned woman before him. She wasn't Abigail, but she was close enough; she was a gift from the whales. They knew how much it hurt him to lose her, so they created a girl much like her, but she was never the same. Her curly brown hair flowed beautifully in the water, her green eyes looked at him with love, her full lips pulled into a kind smile, and even her body was the same until it came to the mermaid tail. He had nothing against this beautiful woman of the sea, but she wasn't the woman he had loved for the short time the universe had given her to him. He'd protect her though, he wouldn't let her die like Abigail had died. Nathan placed a hand on her bare back and pulled her body close to his until her breasts were pressed against his chest and her face was mere inches from his own.

“I love you too Abby” 

He kissed her deeply, water passed from her lungs to his, her fingers tangled in his flowing black hair and her tail wrapped around the base of his. He could love her, but he could never love her the way he had the woman she was based off of. 

He thought about what Ofdensen had told him when Abigail had died, what he had said at her funeral. He had told Nathan that it hadn't been his fault, that none of this was his fault; he couldn't have known about the prophecy or what they were. Charles admitted he had messed up by waiting too long to tell them, by not properly preparing them for what was to come. This loss and the losses in the future were not Nathan's fault.

Yet standing over his fiance's coffin he could only think that it was his fault and his alone.


	6. The Piper's Song (Heart Eater)

Their music was as powerful as the Pied Piper's music supposedly was in folklore, except they weren't folklore. They were something real, dark, light, and highly dangerous; it all depended on how they intended to use their powers. Toki refused to think of it as a gift, not what he was 'blessed' with; his family obviously hadn't thought of it as a gift. Though they had more than willingly done their part to bring a God of Death into the world. It was strange to him how that worked; he had been a curse, a monster, and a demon. They had hated him, feared what he could do, and prayed for him to just die or disappear. Yet they had known what would happen if they had sex and he was born, they knew, and they still went on with it all. He never understood how that worked, he had only felt the faintest hint of pity and sadness when he had watched his mother die. It hadn't all been her fault, she had been forced into marriage to an older man. Her own parents thought it was a blessing that the new Reverend wanted to marry their teenage daughter, but she hadn't wanted that. She had been stuck and like one of Charles Manson's followers she soon lost her ability to distinguish free will from being controlled. She went along with everything the old man said, everything that he did, and she was more than happy to agree that her son was a curse set upon the world. 

Toki had never had a cut and dry relationship with his parents. They were long dead now, there was nothing more to think about or to feel. He liked to occasionally blame them for the world ending, but it would have ended either way. Wouldn't it have?

He honestly wasn't sure, the voices didn't like to discuss that with him. They told him that it no longer mattered, nothing mattered. There was unfinished business, there were things that must be done, but learning about what could have been was not one of those things.

As he sat upon his throne made of cases that at one time were meant to hold instruments and played his guitar he could feel the music in his very bones. He could feel it thrumming through his body, he could feel a monstrous creature within him growling and barking to get out, to destroy something. He surveyed the reanimated corpses wandering around the large warehouse, there were living people coming through the wide open double doors. They were so fucking mindless, he used to pity them; he used to care about them. The thing he had slowly been becoming didn't care about them, it loathed them all. He snarled as he watched them, the music he played became more aggressive. The bodies of the living and the not living swayed back and forth, side to side. They just stood around mindless, slaves to the music that he created. He glanced to his side to where Skwisgaar was kneeling next to him, his eyes were locked on the other bodies. Toki rarely allowed his deceased friend to leave his side, he didn't want to risk him getting hurt or killed all over again. He had to laugh to himself when he thought about Skwisgaar getting hurt; he was dead and besides his body was riddled with bruises and cuts from where Toki had taken out frustration and fear on him.

He was still trying, he knew it was childish to think something would change, but he held out that sliver of hope. He would call him by name in hopes of a response, he would kiss him, and tell him that he loved him even if he wasn't sure he was capable of such emotions these days. He wanted Skwisgaar to be alive again, the voices promised him, but now they were whispering that they hadn't promised anything.

They had in fact promised Skwisgaar could be brought back to life, nothing more. Toki was wondering just how much he should trust them.

He continued to survey the show before him, they were so mindless. They were boring, they were weak; even the living beings on the floor looked as dead and dumb as the zombies. He hated them so damn much, he hated that they had just willingly let their world turn to ash. They had never put up a real fight, they were like turkeys with their mouths open drowning out in the rain. They didn't care to keep their planet safe, they didn't keep their families safe; they gave into greed and addictions. His playing became more furious, as it grew more vicious the bodies moved differently. It only took seconds for a larger sized woman to grab hold of a teenage boy and rip into his decaying throat with her teeth. It was all chain reaction from there. He smirked to himself as he watched them rip into one another, they fought like rabid dogs, this was a floor show. Three minutes in and the floor was soaked in their blood, bodies fell left and right. When the music stopped they stopped, living and dead alike stood waiting for their God with the guitar to tell them to do something. 

He spotted a woman who had to be about his age standing near the front, blood stained her hands, and flesh hung from her mouth. Her brown eyes were set upon him and for a moment he knew if this was before Earth turned into Hell he might of considered having sex with her, but these were different times, and he wanted something very different from her. He crooked a finger beckoning for her to come to him, she obeyed moving slowly; even the living moved slowly when they were under a spell. When she stood just inches before him staring up into his cold eyes he smiled at her showing sharpened teeth. He reached out caressing her bloodied cheek, he ran his fingers through her soft red hair. She felt so warm, he placed his hand over her chest right over her breasts, her breathing quickened at his touch. Her eyes stayed on his, he moved his hand lower cupping her left breast. He leaned his face in close to her's, her lips parted and he pressed his lips against her's drinking in the warmth. He took in her life, her warmth, and the blood that stained her teeth; his tongue swiped over her's and she whimpered into his mouth. She was too enraptured to notice or feel it when the knife plunged into her chest. Her lips stilled and her breathing hitched, he pulled away smirking at her; her eyes were wide and the light was fading from them. She was dying before he had even stabbed her, but he had a different purpose for her. When her body hit the floor he was upon her like a wolf on a dead animal. He ripped into her chest cavity, he grabbed hold of her heart ripping it from her chest. It was still warm, it even gave one last beat before dying completely. He glanced back guiltily at Skwisgaar as if to silently apologize for the beast he had become before he sunk his teeth into the tough organ.


	7. The Sleeper (Preparing the Ending)

It was getting out of hand, it had been getting out of hand from the very day it had started. Pickles spent a good portion of his time just watching over them all, watching over the world, and the way it was caving in on itself. He watched his long lost friends, his brothers. It was best that things ended soon; the galaxy was telling him he needed to end it. The prophecy had gone all wrong, but they had done better than those before them.

According to the echoing voices in the void there were others before them; more times than not they never even came together. He didn't understand why the Hell the five prophets could never be from the same state or the same country. He thought about how the butterfly effect could have kept them from meeting Skwisgaar or Toki, it could have kept him in Snakes n Barrels, or Magnus never could have introduced them to Murderface. A countless amount of things could have happened that could have kept them apart just like those before them, those who either made the world end or kept anything from happening at all. It was complicated, he had knowledge more than his friends, but there were things the void told him he didn't need to know. He just needed to know that the world needed to reset itself, The Half Man had won. It hadn't all been because of his strength, it had been because of their lack of know how. 

In older centuries the prophets were known, when they had been born they had been told about what and who they were. They hadn't been treated like people, they had been treated like deities, but when they came together they didn't do well. They were so accustomed to isolation that they didn't have the ability to fight side by side, to work together. Instead they worked against each other, they fought each other like crazed animals. So it was many years before it happened again, there had been hope that the Half Man would stay dormant and weak if there were no prophets to be found, and nothing to gain strength from. They had been right, he had wandered aimlessly, and weak for many years. That was until it happened again, but this time the five didn't come together; they never crossed paths even once. The first died at seventeen years old, Salacia had found him and slaughtered him the moment he caught the scent of what he was. The others met with the same fate as he found them, each from different states, and just living regular lives.

It wasn't until now did things work fine, they almost worked out perfectly. The five had come together, two of them were always in contact with the Gods they descended from, but they hadn't been prepared. They lived like people, even if they were treated like Gods they still never truly took the place of Gods. Salacia had far too much power by the time they had discovered their own power, they had gone too long not knowing to how handle and control their thoughts and the voices and the visions. Nathan had lost himself completely after Abigail had been killed by one of Salacia's followers, without their leader to keep them together and to lead them into battle they had lost it from there. Now they just added to the chaos of the world, they helped it turn into a living Hell instead of turning it into something new and beautiful. It was time for them to die and for the world to do what it had always done, erase, and redo. It would just be difficult.

Pickles knew it helped that Skwisgaar was dead, it was only four of them now, but that would be hard to do. Toki and Murderface were both rather equally off, they had both gone deeply insane in their own ways. Nathan was determined to fight until the end, to protect the ocean, and the creatures that needed him in order to survive. Nobody really wanted to die, it was instinct to live even when you knew that your time was up. He knew that the things possessing his old friends wouldn't allow them to just let go, but their time was up. Their purpose had ended a very long time ago, the battle had been lost. He had an idea of what would happen to them after they died and something about it made him feel at peace, he wished he could see his friends one last time. Staying hidden in the veil and watching them from this distance wasn't the same, he wanted them all to be more human. He used to remember so vividly how they were, what they liked, what foods they liked, and what things they were scared of. He remembered every fight and argument, he remembered so much about the lives they had before they turned into creatures with insane hearts. He missed it, but if they just let go then it would be over. The pain and the suffering they were all currently in, this constant state of insanity would just fucking end. He needed it to end, but he needed Murderface and Toki to let go first. Nathan he knew would be easy to get to understand, to understand things will be better in the next session of the prophecy. Their less sane friends, the more violent ones wouldn't be easy to convince, but Pickles had ways of that. He could see things they couldn't see, it would work out. Then it would all be up to him.


	8. The Dead Can't Love You Back (They're just dolls)

It didn't take long for him to grow used to the scent of death, he enjoyed it these days. He didn't enjoy this lingering feeling of guilt and shame that gnawed at the back of his brain though. Toki sat on his throne, bodies at his feet, all mutilated with their chests ripped opened. He could taste their blood on his tongue, all of the living ones were very dead now. He pulled one of the female cadavers up from the floor and onto his lap. He held her propping her up, if it weren't for those wide never seeing eyes of her's he could pretend she was alive. He stroked his blood stained fingers against her cold cheek, his claws dragged lightly across her skin leaving faint marks. 

“I could keep you” He mused mostly to himself.

She was pretty, they normally were pretty. It was part of the reason that he killed them, he used to look pretty himself. Even seeing his own hand disgusted him, he resembled the dead more and more each day. The voices lied when they told him long ago that if he devoured the souls and the flesh of the living that he could stay young, he wouldn't rot. It wasn't like he would turn skeletal or old, but he sure as hell didn't look normal. Normal was a loose word, it had no true meaning. He knew this. This girl had been normal, as normal as one in their world could get. When he had kissed her and taken in her soul he could feel her, he could read her. It was more entertaining than he remembered television ever being. He could learn about these people intimately, they gave that to him. He appreciated their selfless sacrifices.

“Eliza is a pretty name too, I would have liked you.” 

He trailed a nail down along her jaw, her head fell back exposing her throat. He pressed his lips against the front of her throat, he licked the blood from her skin. His right hand moved up under the black tank top that she wore, he felt her right breast his fingers rubbing over her nipple. He moved to the gaping wound where her heart once was, he slipped his hand inside feeling around. He could still feel so much warmth in there, she had tasted nice. She had been friendly, popular at one time; she had been smart and athletic. That was before the world had ended, before those too scared to fight decided it was best to hide away underground or in abandoned buildings until things were under control. A woman like this couldn't have survived in this world, he did her a favor, she did herself a favor. He continued to lick and kiss at her neck, his hand moving from her wound to her breast. His mouth moved lower and he pushed her top up. A voice, one of far too many screamed at him that this was wrong, and he needed to stop. Her chest began to slowly rise and fall as life came back to her, a false life. He ignored the screaming in the back of his mind and listened to the other voices. Her fingers knotted in his hair and he smiled against her skin. He moved his hand to her leg slowly moving it up along her inner thigh up beneath the skirt she wore. He looked into her eyes, her lips were parted, but there was no look in her eyes that said she cared one way or another. He hated the lack of lust, the lack of giving back. Even when his fingers entered her he could feel how aroused she was, but she made no sounds or motion. Her breathing was still a disgusting rasp, he slowly moved his fingers in and out of her, his thumb pressed and rubbed over her clit. Yet she was just a lifeless doll, her eyes weren't lit up with pleasure or adoration. She watched him like he should command her to moan, command her to give back. He moved his hand away from beneath her skirt, he took hold of her hand that was knotted in his hair pulling it away. He kissed the top of her hand and smiled sadly up into those doll like eyes. 

“I'll keep you safe, don't worry.” He whispered, promising her.

He liked her, he liked her for now. Soon though he would learn to hate her dead brown eyes, but now he liked them; he liked her. He moved the reanimated corpse from his lap, she took unsteady steps going into the crowd with the other zombies. His army was growing, it was always growing, but there weren't so many to fight. They should move, this part of the city was getting dull now. 

Toki turned his attention to Skwisgaar who still stayed kneeling by his side, his eyes were set on him now.

“What do you think Skwisgaar?” He asked, fingers combing back through the older man's thin blond hair.

He needed to stop lying to himself and thinking his boyfriend was still in there, he wasn't. He was dead and had been for sometime now. Toki thought about how if Skwisgaar had successfully taken his life that in most likelihood he would have given the brunette a proper burial. He would have given him respect, he would have buried him somewhere nice, somewhere peaceful that he knew Toki would have liked. It was funny how they differed in their treatments; Toki used to have far more respect for the dead. Even the dead who didn't deserve that respect, but so many died and now so many came back to life. He had lost his mind along the way and he didn't want his old friend to leave his side again.

“Come on”

He stood and Skwisgaar stood as well, the zombie followed him back to his room. The two sat on his bed and Toki looked over his wounds. He needed to stop hurting him, but he couldn't help it; this was an imposter, not his friend. This wasn't the same guy he had known since he was sixteen years old, the one who tried to teach his stubborn ass for all those years, or the one who watched after him. This was just a thing, just a shambling, stupid thing. He still had no right to raise a hand to him, to cause him so many bruises and contusions. 

“I'm sorry, I used to love you so much.” He explained

This was as stupid as talking to himself, essentially he was. 

“I want you to still be in there, but then I don't....I don't want you to see me like this, see what the fuck I am.”

God he was so ashamed of himself. The thought of Skwisgaar seeing everything, of knowing what a disgusting beast he had become. He couldn't handle it, it made him feel panic prone and frantic. He would kill to have a panic attack, it would mean his heart was beating, but instead he just felt his head throb with pain. It always hurt when he thought a lot, when he felt human. The voices did not like it when he went back to that, when his emotions and his old self tried to break through. He was dying, he was exhausted, and wanted to wake up. Skwisgaar was supposed to be the one who woke him up, but he hadn't. He had only made things worse by taking too long, by not having the courage to stab him.

“If you loved me you would have just fucking done it. I hate you so much.” 

He let out a growl and struck the taller man across the face, nails scratching into his skin. The corpse didn't respond, he just sat there staring. Toki wrapped his arms around him and pulled the older man's body close to his, he buried his face against his chest and attempted crying for the millionth time. Crying soon turned into frustrated and desperate laughter though, he was sick of this. He pulled back and looked up into the other man's eyes.

“You were supposed to save me, why couldn't you have just killed me?”

In disgust he shoved the zombie away from himself, the body landed back onto the bed with a heavy thud. Toki lay down by its side, he rest his head on its chest and threw his leg over its own legs. He needed sleep, because being awake was making him crazier than what was normal. Maybe it was just coming down from the high of feeding, of blood lust; he always felt shame and insanity with that. As he closed his eyes he fell into a completely different type of dream.


	9. Other Realities (Better Dreaming)

He walked the halls of Mordhaus, he hadn't seen this place for a long time. Too long. Toki ran his fingers along the stone walls, he wasn't entirely shocked to see his hand was normal. His skin was slightly tanned, his nails were manicured like they used to be back when things actually mattered. He could feel his heart beating, his head felt clear, and no voices were cluttering it up. He was enjoying this, he was enjoying breathing; did somebody slaughter him while he slept? If this was the afterlife he could be okay with this, he was home again. He continued down the halls until he came to his old bedroom. It was funny to see it again; he had forgotten about all the childish things he had liked, all of the things his parents had refused to give him when he had actually been a child. He'd had his teen years and early twenties to make up for everything they had robbed from him even if it meant that his friends constantly made fun of him for it. He had been the baby of their group, but secretly they liked it. He smiled fondly when he spotted his old stuffed bear sitting on the bed. He sat down and picked the bear up holding it against his chest. 

“Hey Deddy, I haven't seen you for years.”

He could stay here for a long time. He felt warmth, he focused in on the sound of his own breathing; he needed to breathe to keep the blood flowing and to keep his heart beating. His heart was beating again, he was so very human, and flawed. He had missed this, he didn't want to leave here.

“Figured I'd find you in here.”

Toki's head shot up at the sound of the familiar accent. Skwisgaar leaned against the door frame, he smiled at the younger man, amusement in his eyes as he watched the grin spread over his boyfriend's face. Skwisgaar went over to the bed sitting down next to the man he hadn't seen for many months now. Toki sat the stuffed toy to the side and threw his arms around Skwisgaar's neck hugging him. The older man held him back, he kissed the side of his head when he felt tears fall against his skin.

“It's okay”

“I didn't think I'd see you again”

“Me either”

Toki pulled back to meet the older man's eyes, he was so grateful to be crying again. He was so grateful to be feeling again, he never wanted to stop feeling or thinking, he didn't even mind the bad memories anymore. He just wanted to be this way forever.

“What are we doing here?”

Skwisgaar brushed his fingers against Toki's cheeks wiping away his tears, he held his friend's face in his hands studying him. He still thought of him the way he'd been as a teenager; he had always thought of him as a teenager. The way his icy blue eyes looked up at him with adoration and love took him back to those times. This was better than the dead eyes he had seen before he had died, that anguish, and fear.

“Pickles brought you here, for right now.”

“What do you mean?”

“This is like a waiting room, before something new.” Skwisgaar attempted to explain.

Toki was confused and it was evident, the older man smiled.

“I came here when I died, this is where our souls come, because it's a place that we loved.”

“Am I dead?” He asked hopefully.

“No not yet, that's why Pickles wanted you to come here.”

The blond moved away from the younger musician, it was difficult to think clearly and explain when he hadn't seen Toki like this for so long. They only had a few hours together, he had to explain things to the best of his ability.

“For what?”

“We fucked up the prophecy, but it wasn't really our fault? That's what Pickle told me, we have to all die. I knew this, one of my spirits told me that I needed to find you, and I hoped that we would both have died. That didn't work out though.” He said smiling sadly.

Toki would have preferred it if they had both died on that day.

“I don't know if I can, they won't let me.”

The voices that he heard, the things inside of him didn't let him give into the exhaustion he felt. They forced him to continue to fight, to feed, and to ravage the waste land they lived in. Skwisgaar took hold of his hand holding onto it.

“You can, I know you can, but you have to know something. The voices you hear are lying to you, they always have been....You need to trust yourself and trust me, can you do that?”

The younger man nodded.

“Your time will come, you'll know what to do all the way up to that moment.”

“What happens after all five of us die?”

Skwisgaar shrugged, he wasn't really sure. He hated how vague the drummer could be, ever since he went into the galaxy he had picked up the bad habit of speaking vaguely.

“Pickle didn't explain well.”

“You saw him?”

“Yeah I did”

“I thought we couldn't see each other.”

The older man smirked.

“I died so it causes no harm or threat, if it was dangerous then you wouldn't be here with me right now. I missed you so much.”

“I miss you too, I'm so sorry that I killed you. I'm sorry for taking your wings and bringing you back and all the horrible things I've done to you. I'm so sorry Skwisgaar, I'm so sorry for everything.”

He broke down crying again, he buried his face in his hands thinking about all the awful things he had done. This was the first time he had gotten the chance to think clearly for so long now and it made him hurt. It scared him now that he could think about the sins he had committed; now that he could think of all those lives he had taken and the way he tortured Skwisgaar's body. He felt sick and scared. 

The older man placed a hand on his back rubbing gently.

“It's okay, I'm not angry with you. It isn't really you doing those things, we've all done really fucking sick things.”

Skwisgaar did his best to not think about the awful things he had done, because of the creatures he had descended from. The creatures that possessed their hearts and minds didn't live by the weak moral code of the human race, they were above all of that. They used these human bodies like puppets, they took lives easily, and caused pain for their own enjoyment. He often fell into depression thinking about what he had done when that winged beast had control of him, he couldn't imagine what things Toki was going through.

The younger man looked up at him, he looked so scared of all the things he had done. Skwisgaar kissed him gently.

“I want to pretend that this is real and everything else was a really crappy nightmare. Can you lie to me for a little bit, please?” 

He needed to be human, just for a awhile; he didn't want to feel like a beast, not in this place. This place was clean, he hadn't had a peaceful place to run away to ever since he started changing.

Skwisgaar pressed his lips against his forehead.

“This is real, it's just somewhere else. You're real, this is the real you. Not what's back there.” He whispered wanting to soothe and calm his distraught partner.

Toki got up from the bed and settled down on the older musician's lap. He wrapped his arms around Skwisgaar's neck and leaned in close, he kissed him softly his teeth nipping his full bottom lip. The blond haired man smiled kindly at him, he stroked his fingers through soft thick brown hair.

“Forgive me for what I've done.”

“You don't have to ask Jeg tilgir deg kjære.”

He brushed his fingers over his cheek wiping away his tears, Toki leaned into his touch. The younger man placed his hand over his, he turned his head to kiss the palm of his hand.

“Mener du at?”

“I wouldn't lie to you, no more thinking about that. I want to enjoy this, I've wanted to be with you for a long time.”

Toki smiled and nodded, he wanted to pretend he was clean. 

“Lie to me”

The older man smirked, he kissed his partner for a longer period this time.

“Alright; the world never ended, it's still a piece of corporate shit. We just got back from a really long fucking tour, Murderface got arrested in London for indecent exposure.”

Toki laughed, Skwisgaar smiled fondly at him. He twirled the ends of his boyfriend's hair around his index finger, the younger guitarist's kissed at his neck.

“Mm what else?”

“The two of us got a nice couple of weeks alone and met the sexiest French female model.”

Toki lightly smacked the older man on the back of the head, he pulled back playfully glaring up at him. 

“What, it could have happened.”

The younger man laughed before kissing him passionately, Skwisgaar pulled his body flush against his own. His hands moved up underneath his friend's shirt feeling over his toned abs and his scarred skin. Toki pulled back, he removed his shirt dropping it to the floor. The older man knotted his fingers in his hair pulling his head back exposing his neck to him. Skwisgaar kissed along his jaw and down the front of his throat, he sunk his teeth into his shoulder making his partner moan. He released his hold on his hair, his hand rubbing down over his back, Toki kissed him hungrily. His fingers tentatively touched his face, his neck, and down to his chest. He feared hurting him or breaking him, even in a place so safe. 

“I love you” Toki whispered against his lips.

“I love you too, no matter what.”

It felt so good to love, to be alive enough to feel such a fragile feeling. He smiled against the blond haired man's lips when he was lifted up then laid down on the bed, Skwisgaar knelt over him sitting back on his knees. He watched as the older man removed his shirt tossing it to the side, he started to work on his belt buckle and jeans next. Toki sat up placing a hand on the back of his neck pulling him down and kissing him hard. When Skwisgaar had his pants unfastened the younger musician pressed a hand against his stomach moving down reaching into his jeans. He wrapped his fingers around his hardened cock stroking him slowly, the older man moaned against his lips. Toki kissed his jaw and neck, his tongue flicked against his earlobe before biting gently. He moved back to Skwisgaar's lips, he bit and tugged at his lip. His tongue entered the older man's mouth, he no longer wished to taste life he just wanted to taste him. Toki moaned and moved his hips up against the hand that was rubbing at his erection through his jeans. 

“Skwisgaar røre meg, jeg ønsker å føle seg levende igjen.”

Toki moaned when the blond haired man's hand wrapped around his cock. He rocked his hips slowly thrusting into his fist, Skwisgaar's tongue flicked over his left nipple, his fingers trailed along the scar on his abdomen as he continued to stroke him. The older man moved down his body, he stared up into his eyes as he took the head of his cock into his mouth. Toki moved into a sitting position, he combed his fingers through Skwisgaar's hair pushing it back out of his face. The older man took more of his length into his mouth sucking harder, tongue swirling around his length as he bobbed his head up and down. Toki pulled his partner's hair, Skwisgaar pulled his mouth off of his cock and sat back on his knees. 

Toki kissed him deeply, tongue trailing over his bottom lip.

“I need you”

The blond haired man was more than happy to fill that request. The two of them undressed the rest of the way, Skwisgaar grabbed the bottle of lube from the night stand where it always was. It took nearly nothing for them to pretend this was old times, that this wasn't temporary. The lead guitarist knew this wasn't exactly what Pickles had wanted him to do with his time here with Toki, but what the fuck else did he expect? According to the drummer he might not see him again for months, even a year; he wasn't going to waste this time just explaining to him that he needed to die. They both needed this, a break away from talks of death, and feeling guilty for things out of their control. 

He slipped two lubricated fingers inside of the younger man's entrance, Toki dug his finger nails into Skwisgaar's back. They kissed roughly, his boyfriend moaned at the way that Skwisgaar's fingers were working inside of him. His hips jerked and his cock twitched when he felt those long talented fingers stroke against his prostate, pressing in a way that filled him with burst after burst of pleasure. He rocked his hips against his hand moaning loudly when a third finger was added, Skwisgaar took hold of his cock stroking him in time with the way his fingers worked inside of him stretching him open. Toki pressed his lips against the taller man's neck kissing and licking, he moaned and whimpered against his skin begging to be fucked. 

Skwisgaar carefully pulled his fingers out, he coated his length with lube. He held onto his boyfriend's parted legs holding onto him as he slowly pushed inside of him. Toki threw his head back moaning loudly, he kept his arms wrapped around the older man's neck his nails scratching into his back. The blond haired man lay him back on the bed, Toki wrapped his legs around his waist; Skwisgaar thrust into him harder. He had missed the sound of his voice, the heat of his body, and how damn much he loved the man beneath him. Skwisgaar kissed him, it was intimate and exploring; his fingers knotted in soft brown hair and he felt like this really was a better life they could keep forever.

“Jeg elsker deg” Skwisgaar whispered against his lips.

“Jeg elsker deg også, jeg savnet deg”

Skwisgaar held his face in his hands kissing him gently, lovingly; his thrusts slowed to the point they were nearly teasing. He smiled against his partner's lips when he began thrusting down against his cock, Toki groaned in frustration with the older man's slow pace. Skwisgaar kissed the top of his head.

“Patience”

“You're such a cock tease Skwis.”

The older man moved his hips at a faster pace, Toki gave an appreciative moan. Skwisgaar took hold of his cock stroking him, he fucked him harder bringing himself closer to cumming. The younger guitarist's legs tightened around his back drawing him in as closely as he could, nails scratched down his back then fingers tangled in his hair; Toki came into his hand and onto his own stomach. He came yelling out Skwisgaar's name, blue eyes shut tight and breathing labored. The blond haired man gently kissed his lips then kissed his throat and his chest. With two more thrusts Skwisgaar came inside of him, he buried his face against the crook of his neck his moans and pleas muffled against his boyfriend's warm skin. Toki's fingers combed through his hair, he kissed the top of the older man's head. Skwisgaar pulled his head back to look down into his eyes, the brunette smiled shyly up at him. He moaned softly when Skwisgaar kissed him before slowly pulling out of him. The older musician moved down his body trailing kisses along his torso, he licked the drops of cum from his stomach and cock. Toki pushed his hair back behind his ear.

“Pervert”

“You love it” Skwisgaar replied, he kissed his hip.

The blond haired man lay down on the bed lying on his back, Toki moved so that he lay mostly on top of him. He rested his head against Skwisgaar's chest, he made a sound of content when fingers rubbed at his back.

“How long do I have here?”

“You still have some time.”

“So what were we actually supposed to do?” 

“Not have sex” Skwisgaar replied smirking.

Toki pressed his lips against his chest.

“So what then?”

“Just what I told you before hand.”

“Then after....After I die I come back here and I can be with you, right?”

“That's the plan, we'll all be together again. Like old times.”

Toki missed his family, he missed that fall back comfort of there always being people around. Dying had worried him, as much as he hated his position as a bringer of death and disease he didn't want to die. He didn't want to go to a Hell his father preached about or into a place filled with nothing. Knowing that when he died he would come back here, back home; that made him feel okay with dying. He knew it would be hard, because when he woke up back in a post apocalyptic Hell there would be voices in his head that blocked out the man he really was. He would fall back into insanity, back into feeling like a prisoner in his own body.

“I'm scared about waking up, I've done really bad things.”

“I know you're scared, but you're going to be okay.”

Skwisgaar knew how smart and strong his friend was, he would pull through this.

Toki nuzzled against his chest and the blond smiled down at him, it would be hell going another year without him, but at least their friend had been kind enough to gift him with this few hours.

“I'm tired”

“Go to sleep then, I'm right here.”

“No, because I'll end up waking up there again. I want to spend my last moments with you.”

They spent their time mostly in silence, Toki was just amazed he could hear Skwisgaar's heart beating. He was amazed he himself was breathing, that he felt clean and safe for once.

“I'm so sorry I took your wings Skwisgaar.”

“It's okay”

“They looked so beautiful, I just hated I don't have my own. The voices told me to take yours.”

Skwisgaar's fingers trailed over his shoulder blades.

“I saw your wings.”

“What?” Toki asked confused, he lifted his head to look at the older man.

“The first time we met when we were playing guitar, I could see your wings. They're gorgeous you know.”

They fell back into a comfortable silence. They needed so badly to think that this wasn't a goodbye, that this was their happy ending. Even as they fell asleep in each others arms they clung onto the hope that when they woke up they would be together, that they would wake to warm blue eyes and gentle touches. Hope was such an ugly thing in the end of the world.


	10. Everything Burns (Starting the Ending)

When Toki woke up it felt like the worst hang over he had ever had in his lifetime. It was so terrible that for a second he didn't know where he was, he didn't even take notice of how he was no longer breathing. He only wrapped his arm more tightly around the body next to his, he buried his face against Skwisgaar's chest and groaned in pain. When the demonic voices began whispering to him and he realized the skin he was touching held barely any warmth at all was when he realized where he was. He sat up quickly, the pain in his head worsened making him feel physically ill. He looked down at the corpse in his bed, the one with the glazed blue eyes, and disgustingly pale skin. He felt like he could scream; he didn't want to be here, he didn't want to be plunged back into Hell. The zombie's eyes bothered him, they were haunting; before his dream they used to just frustrate and annoy him. Now they filled him with intense grief and sickened guilt. The voices in his head were roaring loudly, the groans of the undead in the next room sounded like a choir from Hell. 

He didn't want to be back here, this was wrong. 

He was currently feeling more than he had for a long time now, he wasn't sure what to do with it.

No he knew what to do with it. Skwisgaar had told him what to do with it. 

Toki closed his eyes tightly, he placed his hands over his ears to try to block out the sounds, but the ones in his head would never leave him. They were eternal, they were angry with these recent events. He wondered how long it would be until he lost control again, until the demons took complete control. He admitted things were easier when his human side didn't have control, when his feelings and morals were buried beneath eight thousand layers of insanity and malice. This was hell, this was pain. This was his opportunity to do what Skwisgaar told him he needed to do. He needed to set things into motion before the voices took him over again. For right now they were far away, caged up, and pissed off at him for showing so much vulnerability and fear. He needed to go, he needed to tear this place apart.

He got up off of the bed doing his best to not look at the body. He went and grabbed his scythe from the corner of the room. He went back to the bed and looked down at the body laying on it, the shell of the man he had known for a good portion of his life. The one he hated, the one he loved, and had always stood with. The one he had just seen in another life, a place better than this one. This was just a body, this was another mindless creature that he had created to make himself feel less alone. To make himself feel less like a monster, he felt sick thinking about how good it had made him feel to destroy him. How pleased with himself he had been when he had removed Skwisgaar's wings. Now he only felt sick, it gave him more reasons to bring this story to its close. The voices were raging now, he felt claws digging into his brain warning him to listen.

They told him that they needed Skwisgaar alive, that this was all apart of the plan.

“This isn't even him, it's a fucking corpse! It's just another stupid thing you forced me to make.” He yelled, his voice echoed off of the walls.

He tightened his grip on the handle of his weapon as anger filled him. Anger at the voices, anger at himself.

“This never should have happened, I shouldn't have allowed this to happen.”

The zombie never moved, it just lay there staring up at him. He could never explain how wrong it was to look at Skwisgaar like this. It didn't help that he had just seen him alive, had seen him happy. He wanted to go back to that place, he needed to go back there; he needed to feel that way again. 

“I'm so sorry Skwisgaar, I never should have done this to you. I'm so so sorry.”

He couldn't look at him when he killed him a second time. He looked away when the blade sliced through his neck removing his head. He cringed at the sound of metal slicing through flesh and bone, he saw the blood as it sprayed over the bedroom walls. 

“I'm sorry” He whispered sadly.

The voices were burning like fire in his head. If they hadn't been pissed off before they sure were now. He had always been such an easy target for them, they had been blessed to get a vessel like him; somebody easy to take over, somebody with so many repressed negative emotions. He was naive and depressed, he was full of rage he was terrified of letting out into the world. Every emotion that built up inside of him fed them, made them stronger. He wasn't letting them through now; his friends had gifted him this window of opportunity and he was going to use it wisely. After that the demon inside of him could do whatever the fuck that it wanted.

He felt more confident when he entered the main room of the warehouse, the dead milled around like mindless drones. Several stopped and watched him, they watched him with dead eyes that worshiped a God that took their life and gave life back to them. He tried to mentally detach from this moment, his hands trembled and he held his weapon firmly in his hands. He needed to do this, after he was through here then he could let the demon back in. He didn't care after that, because Pickles had a plan and he trusted that his friend would know what to do from there. 

The blade sliced through necks and heads, blood sprayed into the air covering him, covering the floor. Bodies fell to the ground with loud wet thumps. He licked the blood from his lips tasting their wasted lives, tasting what used to be human life. Now they were nothing. They were lives he had taken, souls he had devoured to keep himself strong and to appease Gods that lived inside him. He told himself he was doing this for them, that this was right, because it was. Just taking a life was never easy.

As each body hit the ground the demon grew angrier, just a little bit longer. He could hold out long enough to finish this up. Toki pulled his lighter from his pocket flicking it on, he tossed the lighter to the ground the flame catching on the nearest corpse's clothing. He watched as the fire spread, each body burning, soon the building would be drenched in flames. He left the building before it was too late; he stood on the streets watching. Just for a little while. It felt fitting to watch this place burn to the ground, this city of damnation he had built from the ground up. He wouldn't miss it, he wouldn't miss this prison he had created for himself. 

The city burned brightly behind him as he left it all behind. Flames and smoke reached up towards a reddened sky, a black moon glared down ominously upon this scene. He was just one more step closer to done, by the time he would be out of the city limits the demon would have control of him again. This was the plan, he prayed that it would work.


	11. Was Only Dreaming (It's Set in Stone)

Nathan had been dreaming again. Better dreams, dreams about Abigail when she had been alive. His mind was stuck on those days. Mostly stuck on the night he had proposed to her. He had been so fucking nervous that she'd reject him or that he would mess it up so badly she would just laugh at him and end it right there and then. He had taken her out to dinner, he had drank so much he was dizzy, and by the time he was on bended knee trying to get the question out he nearly threw up. He shouldn't have taken his friend's advice on drinking before hand, it hadn't made things any easier. She had giggled finding the whole thing amusing, but she wasn't laughing at him like a lot of women used to do. She found him cute, he was sweet, caring, and gentle. She regretted how things had started between them, the tension their hook up had caused between Nathan and Pickles, but once everything calmed down it was fine. He hadn't planned on getting with her after they rescued her and Toki, he figured she wouldn't want a single thing to do with him, but after some time she gave him a chance. She never regretted the chance that she gave him, he was so grateful for her. He nearly went into shock when she agreed to marry him. 

His favorite place in his mind was that night. Taking her back home, taking her to his room. Kissing her was so intoxicating, she always made him nervous; he wanted to please her and impress her. She was great, way too good for him. Her lips tasted sweet, her fingers combed through his hair in a way that was soothing. She would whisper against his lips that she loved him. He worshiped every inch of her body with his hands and mouth, he was so happy to have her with him. He knew outside of the safety bubble of his dreams he had a different version of her, but she was never the same. They didn't share memories, likes, and she could never look at him the way that Abigail always had. 

In his dream he placed his hand against her cheek and looked into her beautiful eyes. She placed her hand over his, her fingers caressed his. Nathan kissed her gently, he was always so gentle with her even when she told him that he didn't need to worry about breaking her. 

“I love you” He said to her and he never meant those words more than when he said them to her.

She smiled and leaned up kissing him, he moaned when her tongue entered his mouth. He felt lost and filled with pleasure when she rolled her hips, he loved how warm her body was. His right hand trailed over her stomach, she arched up into his touch silently begging him to move his hand lower. She broke from their kiss when his fingers started rubbing against her clit, she moaned softly then loudly as his fingers worked her. Her nails dug into his back, he groaned at the way her nails scratched his skin; he thrust harder making her moan more loudly and beg him to do it like that. Nathan kissed down her neck to her breasts, he ran his tongue over her chest. He ran the tip of his tongue back and forth over her right nipple, she had her head tossed back against the bed and her eyes closed tightly. The sweetest sounds came from her mouth, his name sounded mind blowing coming from her. He thrust into her at a fast pace, she brushed her fingers through his hair, and told him how good he felt inside her. He worked her body in every way he could, he wanted her to feel good. He did anything he could to make her happy, to fill her with pleasure. 

She came first, her wetness and the way she tightened around him pushing him over the edge. He came inside her, his thrusts slowing as he rode out his own orgasm. Her body relaxed and she was in the process of catching her breath. He had his head resting against her chest, he ran his fingers over her side doing his best to not think too much about her scars. She told him a lot to not think about it, it wasn't his fault what Magnus had done to her and Toki. He needed to not stress about it, it was okay. Nathan pulled out of her and lay by her side, she kissed the top of his head and whispered that she loved him. 

That was the perfect night, it was a new beginning to the rest of their lives. 

Too bad it all faded to black shortly after. Nathan was left standing somewhere he knew well, but didn't visit often. He never had to go there unless he needed to know about something. He seemed disinterested in the streaks of green and purple light going through the darkness, the sparkling diamonds known as stars that hung in the sky all around him. He had never been in a position to really appreciate the beauty of this place.

“Thanks for interrupting my dream asshole, this better be important.” 

Nathan folded his arms over his chest and glared in the direction he knew Pickles normally was.

Soon enough he spotted the drummer; the red head sat upon his throne made up of stone. He smirked at his old friend.

“Yeah dude it's important and besides you always have that same fucking dream. I'm getting sick of seeing my friends all having sex.”

The black haired man laughed, “Who else have you been watching you fucking voyeur?”

“Toki and Skwisgaar.”

The younger man furrowed his brows in confusion.

“Wait, how the fuck did that happen?”

The drummer shrugged, “I kind of gave them some time together, before the ending.”

Nathan had heard that Skwisgaar had died, but he hadn't paid much attention to it. When he was awake there was little that he paid attention to when it came to his old friends or what they did in their lives. In dreams he had a small amount of interest, but he mostly stayed with Abigail.

“What for?”

“Well I meant for blondie to just tell Toki about what he needs to do, what we all need to do, but y'know how shit goes.”

He didn't completely understand, but he knew the feeling of losing somebody you loved. He couldn't imagine literally killing somebody that you were in love with, but Pickles kept on saying that it was part of things to come. If it hadn't been for Skwisgaar going to find Toki then the end wouldn't be on its way, they would just be stuck like this. Nathan wasn't really sure he could live like this for much longer.

“Did he tell him?”

“Yeah he told him enough, I gave the kid a chance to get things started when he woke up. I need to tell you some of the other parts.”

Nathan grunted.

“Don't fucking do that mystery sleeper shit, it's annoying.”

“Fine, fine. Alright fuck, Toki has to kill Murderface and then he's going to come after you.”

“I always thought he'd just kill Murderface back before all of this happened.”

Both men laughed. 

“Yeah well now he can, the god of death isn't really happy with what I did. So Toki is going to be really fucked up now, more than he has been. Murderface is weak compared to us so he'll be easy enough. By the time the kid gets here it should be easy for you to do your part.”

Nathan wasn't thrilled with where this was more than likely heading, but he would do it none the less.

“You want me to kill Toki?”

“Yeah and then I take care of everything from there.”

He wasn't happy with this plan. Part of him was tired of losing people that he cared about. He had lost his parents, he had lost his fiance, he lost one of his friends, and now he was being told he would have to kill the guy he practically brought up. He knew he had to do it, it was set in the stone known as time and their future history, but that didn't make it any easier.

“What if he kills me instead, he's strong as fuck.”

“I'm the Sleeper remember, I fucking know this shit for fact. He won't kill you, he's not going to be completely right by the time he gets to the ocean.”

Pickles had gotten a glimpse of the rhythm guitarist's mind set at that point in their time line. He knew how shattered his sanity was going to be and how tired he was, it would almost be a mercy killing.

“Let me guess you get the easy part.”

Again the drummer smirked.

“Hey my part is fucking hard too, but er less blood shed. I just have to fucking hunt up some things, do some time shit, and poof all this crap is gone.”

“So then what?”

“Don't worry about it, it'll be fine.”

Nathan got quiet, Pickles waited for him to start asking the usual questions.

“Do you know where Abigail is?”

“She's not where you're going to go to. She wasn't part of the prophecy dude, she wouldn't have survived. You know that.”

“She could have, I could have done something to protect her and she could have come with me.”

“You saw what happened with Toki and Skwisgaar, that's what would have happened with the two of you. Just she wasn't a God, you would have just gone off the deep end and killed her. You already know all this, those whales of yours told you this shit before.”

“I just miss her.”

“I know dude, don't worry. I really mean it when I say that things will be alright after this is over.”

He did mean it, it would be weird, and by all means he couldn't explain it to them, but it would be fine. The prophecy was going to work properly the next time around, in a couple hundred years it would work out the way it was meant to.

“Anything else you need to tell me or can I go back to my life as a Ocean God?”

“Nah I don't got shit, it was good seeing you again though dude.”

“Yeah it was good seeing you too.”

With that he was plunged back into the ocean. He woke on the ocean floor with the mermaid equivalent of his long lost love curled up against his side. His tail was curled protectively around her slender frame keeping her safe and ensuring that nothing would hurt her while they slept. He brushed his fingers through her curly locks of hair and kissed the top of her head. He loved her as much as he could love her.


	12. Two Down (I didn't mean to do this)

It took nearly a year to find where one of the remaining Gods was living. The demonic God inside of him was more than happy to go along with this, to take him to who used to be his friend. The human part of him was all caged up now, waiting for this to all be over with. His rage was calm, cold, and murderous. The demon was okay with the loss of the zombie army, it was fine. At least Toki had been on the right track; hunting down the remaining three Gods. Murderface would be the easiest to kill; the demon knew how weak the bassist was. He had never been stable and now even less so, he was as lost and complicated as Toki had been. It made possession easy, it made it easy to be controlled by outside forces. Back in the beginning Salacia had his claws hooked in the bass player's thick skin, had used him as much as he saw reasonable and then let him go. Now he roamed the forestry with a broken mind; he was so lost and out of it it was hard to tell what could have been other wise. 

Toki found him easily, he had a tendency of leaving a trail of carnage in his wake. Wilderness was left destroyed, carcasses of animals and men alike were strewn across the ground. He left destruction in his wake, because he knew nothing else; he was so full of fear and rage that he had nothing else.

God what the two of them had in common. 

Toki had tried a lot back before everything happened, he had tried to be his friend. He tried to like him and tolerate him, but it was difficult. Murderface took every chance to call him crazy, comment on his scarred back and sides, he made fun of his feminine voice, and called him gay. When he wasn't calling him queer he was trying to hit on him and have sex with him. The guitarist found him repugnant; he could be around him, could get along with him quite well, but something inside of himself always hated the older man. Found nothing redeeming beneath the surface, just something stupid and ugly. Something that he hated and wanted to beat into oblivion.

Well now he had that chance, no reason to stop once he started. 

He thought about the demented pleasure taking Skwisgaar's life and wings had given him. He needed to feel that again, this would give him that pleasure. It was a hard feeling to come by. He was rotting, his skin was rotting away on his hands and chest. He could see bone and it unnerved him. He was always changing, changing into something else; something worse. He didn't know that there could be worse than this, but his mind was divided. The demon was doing better though, the God of Death needed control. It wasn't hard to break Toki down, to make him give over primary control. He still cursed the God that possessed him for what he made him do, the way he made him hurt innocent people and those he loved. He always referred to it as a demon, mostly because he had spent his childhood being called a demon. So that was the name he dedicated to that side of him, that part that scared him and turned everything colorful to black, turned everything he loved to ash. A God of Death didn't mind such a name, so many already thought of death as something evil, something not natural. Who knew people could think the most natural thing in the world was far from nature. 

He had showed them though, he had taken their lives, devoured their souls, and turned their cities into ash. Now he was climbing the ladder to the top, there was no reason for other Gods. Not anymore.

After nearly a year of searching he found another God, too bad this one hadn't come to him. He felt himself grinning exposing fangs as he watched the older man, creature. He looked mostly the same, hairier and somehow more grotesque. His nails and teeth were as sharp and gnarled as Toki's; fangs and claws seemed to be something they all grew over time. Murderface never heard him approaching from behind; he continued to devour the large white tiger that lay on the ground with its side ripped open.

“You're still a foul fucking creature aren't you?” He asked drawing the attention of the other man.

Murderface moved away from the carcass, he stood before Toki trying in vain to make himself appear taller. His eyes glowed red and he snarled, blood stained his face and his hands. To anybody else he might be threatening, to Toki this was only more entertainment. He was deciding whether this should be quick or should it be slow and fun.

“Come on fat ass show me what you have, you always used to say you could kick my ass.”

The older man growled and ran towards him. Toki side stepped missing him easily. He felt claws dig into his back and cried out from the pain of it, he could feel his blood running down his back. Something heavy knocked him face down onto the ground. He felt fangs sink into the side of his neck as if the bastard were attempting to eat him.

“You shouldn't have fucking come here.”

Toki reached back grabbing a fist full of thick curly hair, he roughly pulled the older man off of him throwing him down onto the ground. He got to his feet glaring down at the creature that had just dared hurt him. His black blood stained Murderface's face, he seemed disgusted by the taste. The guitarist placed a boot clad foot on his chest holding him down on the ground. Murderface snarled and grabbed hold of his ankle shoving him off of him. The younger man caught his balance easily, again he moved when he was charged for a second time. This time when the bassist tried to knock him to the ground he swung his scythe downwards cutting across his knee caps. The older man fell to his knees screaming out in pain.

The God of Death watched mildly amused as the older man clutched at the sides of his head screaming and yelling at himself. He couldn't make out what he was saying, not a lot of it. Just a lot of how wrong this was, how he didn't want to hurt his friend, and how he had liked him a lot.

He had been right, he hadn't been the only one having a psychotic break down.

In the back of his own mind his human side was screaming to be let out, he knew that this all had to happen, but to watch it scared him. It was like watching a bad horror movie that he couldn't look away from no matter how hard he tried to. He could only pray to Gods that he wanted nothing to do with that his friend would forgive him after this was all over.

He grabbed Murderface by his hair jerking his head back hard, the shorter man groaned in pain. His eyes flickered from glowing red to their regular odd slightly yellow color. He looked so scared, angry, pleading, and determined. So many fleeting feelings; two battling souls, the human one was so fucking weak.

“Salacia did a number on you, didn't he?” Toki mused.

Murderface tried to get away from him, he clawed at his arm cutting into ashen flesh. It stung, but nothing that he couldn't handle.

“Let me fucking go, fucking stop this you crazy asshole!”

“You're only making this harder on yourself, I'd hoped you'd fucking fight better. Come on you bastard actually fight me!” He ordered 

He shoved him to the ground and stepped back waiting. The shorter man climbed to his feet and turned to face him. He pulled a knife from his pocket, one that Toki remembered well from the day it had been driven through his back at the funeral. The bassist growled as he charged him, he plunged the knife into the younger man's shoulder. 

That was rather disappointing. 

His body shook and when he looked up into Toki's face he was crying. Something human within himself felt terrible, hated so much of this. He hated hurting his friend, he hated seeing him like this even though they had never gotten along that well.

“I can't fucking do it dude, I can't fucking kill you. I don't want to. Just fucking stop it. I can't do it.”

He closed his eyes tightly and shook his head like he was trying to shake away the voices angrily demanding him to fight to kill.

“I can't fucking do it! I'm not gonna fucking kill him. I fucking love him you stupid asshole. I'm not killing anybody else, I'm not fucking doing it you selfish prick.”

As entertained as the God of Death was with the confession of love and watching somebody battle with themselves like this, he had other things to do. 

He grabbed the older man's wrist so tightly he heard the bone crunch, Murderface released the knife. 

“Too bad, I wanted to play with you longer.”

Toki pulled the blade from his shoulder. His friend was in too much shock to respond; his mind was broken, his eyes were so human. The look of remorse and fear on his face was so fallible; he tried to reassure himself this was the right thing to do. 

He shoved the bassist down onto the ground. He got down on top of him kneeling over him. Toki placed a hand around his throat gripping tightly enough to make breathing difficult. He plunged the blade into his chest just missing his heart. The older man screamed out in pain.

“Love me, I don't love you; I fucking hate you, nobody fucking loves you! You're a vile fucking wretch, I barely tolerated you. Your own parents couldn't fucking love you.” He yelled out as he stabbed him again and again.

Every time the blade pierced his flesh it missed his heart. The blood poured from the gaping wounds, it stained his own skin and Toki's as well. The scent of it drove him insae, filled him with something disgustingly primal that made his eyes glow dangerously. He grinned at the look of pain and betrayal on his face. He wanted this to hurt, he wanted him to feel this in every way possible; it was made all the better by the way his human side was screaming at him to stop. 

“You are a filthy fucking animal, you can't even control your own mind.”

He was just barely alive when the knife was plunged through his heart.

Toki remained kneeling over Murderface's corpse. The thing controlling him loosened its grip allowing him freedom. The feeling of sadistic pleasure left his body leaving him shaking and sobbing. Toki clutched onto the older man's shoulders his claws digging into his skin. He lowered his head to his chest and sobbed until his ribs ached, no tears ever fell from his dead eyes.

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry Murderface. I'm fucking sorry. I didn't mean any of that.”

He didn't mean it, he didn't mean to say those horrible things to him. He didn't think that.

The voices in his head whispered that was a lie.

“Shut up. Leave me alone!” 

He ignored the blood that was staining his hair and face, he continued to repeat his apology until his throat was raw. He couldn't say it enough, he couldn't let go or leave. He would remain here until it took him over again and made him leave, made him go after something bigger and more dangerous. Until that time came he would remain there holding the corpse of his dead friend.


	13. Peace in Death (Rejoining)

Skwisgaar found Murderface in the kitchen, the bassist sat at the round table with his face in his hands. A half empty bottle of vodka sat in front of him. Skwisgaar took the seat next to his, the older man didn't acknowledge his presence, just continued to ignore him.

“Welcome back Williams”

“Skwisgaar you're like the only fucking asshole who actually calls me by my first name, except Charles.”

Admittedly the bassist missed their manager. He had disappeared after Abigail's funeral claiming that he had made too many mistakes and there was nothing more he could truly do for the five of them. At this point it was safe to presume that he died.

“Knubbler used to call you Willy.”

“Ah fuck off dude, god my head is killing me. I can't believe Toki fucking killed me. Can you fucking believe that shit?” He asked finally looking up at the blond haired man.

“Uh well he killed me too, he was supposed to kill you.”

“Whoa what? What the fuck did I miss here?”

Skwisgaar rolled his eyes, the bassist was left out of literally everything. Even the end of the world.

“The prophecy got fucked up, all five of us have to die. I had to go find Toki and there were three ways it could go, but....I think it was always supposed to end with him killing me, whoever lived had to go after you, and then Nathan.”

“Why didn't I know about this shit?”

“I guess Pickle never told you, I don't know. Sorry about that....Um are you okay?”

“Psh yeah I'm fucking great, I got fucking stabbed! Repeatedly, with my own fucking knife.”

“You mean that one you got after Magnus died, you realize that made Tokis really fucking uncomfortable. Right?”

Honestly it had made everybody uncomfortable that he had the knife Magnus had stabbed Nathan with and then went back to the collapsed building to retrieve the knife that Magnus had used to stab Toki with. It made the rhythm guitarist extremely uncomfortable to constantly see that knife and the memories that it came with. Murderface had never been one to really be aware of the feelings of his friends, he had just thought of it as a really bad ass souvenir.

“It was fucking bad ass, he probably fucking tossed it. Asshole.” 

The bassist crossed his arms over his chest and began muttering to himself about how much of a dick Toki was. Though deep down he was still shaken up by the whole dying ordeal and the years before it. His mind had been in ruins for that whole time. Ever since that bastard in the Depths of Humanity cut into his arm and infected him he hadn't been right, he hadn't known until later on that he was marked for Salacia to control. The bastard half man had forced him to do his dirty work, until he didn't need him anymore. Apparently the guy he'd had before, Crozier hadn't worked out correctly; he had even under mind control tried to fight against the half man. So he simply ended his life and took on somebody new, somebody much more powerful; that was until Murderface was no use to him. He left him alive, but with a severely cracked psyche. His own God soul had been cagey, had been full of rage about being controlled by some other being. His own normal human mind had been left with a feeling of deep violation. He spent all of his time fighting through it, fighting against it, and raging against himself. In a sad way it was almost a relief when Toki killed him.

“Pickle told me you were really messed up.”

“What does that fucker know?”

“He can see everything.”

“What the fuck, fucking all knowing prick.” He muttered

Now he worried if the drummer had heard him tell Toki that he loved him. He wasn't sure why the Hell he had even said that. Sure he found the Norwegian attractive, he had tried to have sex with him, and hit on him time after time. It had gotten to a point where things were awkward and Toki could barely stand to be around him. He kind of wondered if maybe he was less of an asshole if the younger musician might have given him a chance in Hell.

“You told him didn't you?” Skwisgaar asked.

Murderface glared at him.

“Told him what?”

“That you're in love with him.”

Skwisgaar wasn't judging or mad about it, everybody knew. He was constantly running between the two guitarists. He had ended up clinging more so onto Toki after a certain point, nobody was entirely sure why and the feelings would never be returned. They just let it play out, it was sad to find out that it ended up being one of the last things he'd ever say to Toki.

“What the fuck, did Pickles fucking tell you? Fucking asshole, a guy can't keep anything fucking private. Fucking assholes fucking watching me all the time.”

“Nobody told me, I just guessed. I'm sorry by the way.”

The older man seemed to relax, he slumped down in his chair and averted his eyes.

“That wasn't him right, when he told me shit...That wasn't him.”

“No, it wasn't. That's why we're trying to get this to end soon, because we were all seriously losing our minds. Things will be okay again though, Pickle told me so.”

“Fucking better, this shit really sucks dude.”

“I know, I'm glad you're here. It's been really fucking weird being here alone. Pickle talks to me sometimes, but only when I'm sleeping.”

It made sense since he was the sleeper.

“Somebody actually wants my fucking company, throw a fucking party over this one.”

“Believe it or not you are my friend, even if you are a stubborn asshole.”

The older man smiled at that.

“So this is exactly like Mordhaus?”

“Exactly”

“Wanna go get drunk in the hot tub and watch crappy documentaries?”

“Sure”


	14. Death's Finale (You had to do it)

The ocean was roaring and the skies were a clash of blood red and black. What fell from the sky wasn't the normal blood rain, but instead the ashes of all those who had fallen over these years. It would soon be over, this world would come to an end and a new one would begin. Nathan had enjoyed this world while it had lasted, he had enjoyed his life for nearly thirty years. Even the parts that made him angry or depressed hadn't been too bad, none of it had been. Then it had all started to fall apart, it had fallen before their eyes before anybody could even register what was going on. Now he waited on the shoreline to take the life of one of his friends. He himself wasn't keen to the idea, he was against it actually. The other side of him, the God that had control over his body and mind told him this was what needed doing. Only little parts of himself were human, those parts would be placed on the back burner the second he would lay eyes on the Bringer of Death. That would make this so much easier, if Nathan didn't have to really be mentally present to watch himself take Toki's life. It wasn't going to be them, it was never them; it was always something else causing all of this chaos and destruction. He needed to remind himself that right now; he had himself an army waiting in the shallow parts of the water. He was more than prepared for battle, more than he had been told that he would need to be. 

Nathan wasn't all too sure what he had been expecting to see when Toki finally showed up, but he hadn't expected what he got. 

The human part of himself was shocked, saddened and even mildly disgusted by whatever it was that approached him with a look of psychotic determination. Something with graying flesh that was rotting away in places over his chest, stomach, and arms. His brown hair was stringy and hung down covering almost half of his face, he glared up at Nathan with glowing red eyes; sharp teeth stained with blood. His body no longer looked muscular or lively, he looked like some vile rage fueled creature conjured up by mythology. Nathan could see the pain in his face hidden beneath that pure basic hatred, he could see the way his hands trembled as he held tightly to the handle of his scythe. He was waging a war with himself, something that nobody would win. Nathan had to think of this like a mercy killing, putting his friend out of his fucking misery. He needed to tell that to himself. 

He barely felt it when that blade sliced into the thick black scales of his lower body. He stared down at the demonic creature slicing at him, growls and curses in a more natural tongue falling from blood stained lips. Nathan easily grabbed him up by the throat and tossed him away like a worn out rag doll. Toki landed on the ground, he sat there and glared up at Nathan as if that simple move damaged whatever ego the God inheriting his mind had built up for itself. It had managed to take out two Gods and entire cities, yet it couldn't fight and kill a half snake water beast. When he came again he aimed higher, this time the blade sliced across Nathan's stomach. It dug in deeply enough to draw blood, enough to anger the God of the Ocean as well as his army who was just waiting for an excuse to take out this pathetic creature that dare attack the one who protected them for so long.

Before Toki could cut him again Nathan grabbed his wrist hard enough to break the bones in his wrist. The younger man cried out in pain, he tried to twist and pull away determined to all levels of Hell that he would not leg go of his weapon. He only released it when his hand was ripped from the rest of his arm. Nathan smirked at the look of out rage on the Death God's face. He held his arm watching the thick black liquid poor down from the stump. Two sea beasts emerged from the ocean, they grabbed Toki by his arms restraining him. Though he wasn't a danger right now. He kept his head hung, hair curtaining his face from view. His posture changed drastically; he was muttering to himself in a language Nathan had never had the interest in taking the time to try and learn. When he lifted his head again his eyes were a pale glazed blue, tears fell from his eyes as he stared helplessly up at the God of the Ocean.

“Please....Please kill me. I can't do this, I can't handle this anymore! I've done so many things....So, so many....God please, kill me! I can't fucking take being like this anymore! Just do it, just kill me...”

He broke into heavy sobs, his body shaking. 

Mercy killing. This was a mercy killing.

Nathan told that to himself as he sliced the blade through his friend's neck. He turned away and went back into the ocean, he wasn't sure what would happen next. Pickles had never told him for sure what the plan was from this point on, just that it was nothing he had to worry about.

In the depths of the ocean Nathan found Abigail waiting for him. She smiled kindly at him, she knew in a way how must it hurt him to kill somebody he cared about. She couldn't understand completely; she hadn't known these people before the world was like this, she could never understand the bonds they built with one another. She did understand the look of guilt and shame on Nathan's face. She wrapped her arms around him hugging him, he buried his face in the crook of her neck kissing her cool skin. She combed her fingers through his hair.

“You had to do it, it's okay.” She whispered soothingly.

He held onto her and tried to believe the words she was saying. If Pickles had been right then he would be seeing them all again soon. He wondered how long they would be in that place together, somewhere where they could pretend none of this Hell had taken place.


	15. Earth Split (Too late now)

Pickles couldn't tell when it all had become so complicated. He wasn't sure if it was around the time that Abigail died, when Murderface became possessed, or when the burning voices of ancient Gods lit their skulls up like wild fire. He just knew it had always been complicated, so many years now. He was tired, he was so fucking happy this was all about to end for them. He remembered he used to have so many questions, more than he could ever keep in order. He had wanted answers, he'd wanted guidance; all five of them had wanted that, but there had never been time for that. Ofdensen had left them behind when they had needed him the most, he had told them this was all his fault and they would know what to do from that point on. He wanted to be angry, but the stars told him not to be; they told him that even as the Dead Man he was still just that, a man. He had done everything in his limited power for them, he had guided them and shaped them, but it had always been too late. Too late for him to realize what they were meant for, too late to become the Dead Man, too late to get Toki back, and so on. Ofdensen claimed it was his fault, he hadn't been as orderly or professional or as brave as they had needed him to be. What was happening to them was something he possibly couldn't control. Pickles wanted to hate him for that, resent him...at first he did, easily he was pissed off. His friends were distancing themselves, withdrawing into themselves, but their manager was nowhere to be found. He hated that Ofdensen was showing weakness when rarely he did so. He wasn't supposed to be scared, worried, or unsure. That had always been their sign that things were getting out of hand, going into a very bad place; Charles Ofdensen was scared and had no solutions. 

Over time Pickles forgave him, because he was dead now. He had died in a last ditch effort to go up against Salacia. 

He wondered if he could have done something to help him out then, but the stars told him that there was nothing he could have done. Pickles knew this, he knew everything; unlimited knowledge was terrifying. It was funny when he thought abut it; how at one time he'd been a burned out coke head who spent all of his spare time drunk into oblivion. He had done everything to keep himself from thinking, from being coherent and in the present time, but now he was sober. Now he was something nearly ethereal; he couldn't explain it. He felt nothing and everything.

Pickles watched as the oily black surface of the ocean caught fire. Everything was burning; Toki had set fires to the cities, Murderface had set fires to the forestry, and now Nathan was setting fire to the place that had been his home for all these years. Pickles knew he would spend his final moments of life embracing the mermaid who looked like his long lost love, they would kiss as they burned away. It was better this way; they were being rewarded in the afterlife. Fallen Gods and warriors got good things in the afterlife; they got back their shared home. In the normal concept of time it would take two years for Pickles to finish his end of the job, but in his own concept of time it was only going to take an hour. 

He pierced the point of the blade through the black veil that hid him from the view of Gods and demons. The thin black glass shattered leaving him exposed and allowing him to go anywhere outside of this place that he pleased. He knew the moment he set foot on the burning grounds of the Earth that he would die.

The pavement felt hot and sticky beneath his bare feet, smoke filled the air and his lungs choking him. He looked around with glowing red eyes, but he wasn't on alert. He was simply waiting. He held his sword in both hands, the blade glowed with a green electricity, the tip was pressed against the ground. He could feel a dark presence coming up behind him, something hundreds of feet tall, and coming to take the life of the last living God. Pickles smirked when he felt the air shift and change, when he felt a single claw graze the back of his neck. He almost laughed when he heard the Half Man scream in rage as the sword pierced into the ground. A split appeared in the ground beneath their feet, it spread the Earth and started the process of breaking it all up into pieces. By the time that the Half Man wrapped a hand around his throat and crushed the life from him it was too late. The process was beginning. The Earth shattered like a dollar store mirror that had been dropped on the bathroom floor, it swallowed itself up into a giant black and green orb. In one hundred years it would recreate itself as it had been, it would be like rewinding a video tape all the way back to the beginning.

In the mean time the five of them got the pleasure of a final reward.


	16. Epilogue (Restart, better life)

The snow was cold beneath his bare feet, the chilly air made him shiver almost as badly as the fresh cuts on his face and arms. The small boy ran and ran until every breath filled his lungs with burning cold and his legs were shaking. He sat down on the snow coated ground beneath a large tree, he pulled his legs up against himself and buried his face in his arms. He was far enough away from home that his dad couldn't get him here, he wasn't sure when he could go back there. He would wait until night, wait until his mother and father were safe in bed and wouldn't hear him sneak into his bedroom window. The front door would be locked, they never let him have a key; they liked to punish him every now and again by locking him out and forcing him to sleep in the yard. 

He whimpered when the bruise on his forehead throbbed reminding him that it was there. Bruises circled his wrists, throat, and damaged the pale skin of his face. His bottom lip was split open, knees scraped up, the bottoms of his feet were blistered, and the cuts on his hands were bleeding again. Everything hurt and burned, his breathing came heavy and painful. His tears rolled down his cheeks and over his arms.

The sound of foot steps crunching in the snow caused his body to tense and his breathing to slow. He could feel his heart beating hard enough to make his chest feel tight and pained. He silently prayed it wasn't who he thought that it was, he didn't want to go back to the closet. He didn't want to get beaten with the belt again. No, please no.

“Tokis? God it happened again, didn't it?” A thick Swedish accent made his breathing even out and caused his muscles to relax

A feeling of happiness over came him at the sound of the saddened familiar voice. Toki lifted his head to look up at the person addressing him.

A tall thirteen year old boy with shoulder length light blond hair, ocean blue eyes, high cheek bones, and his full lips pulled into a frown stared down at him. The boy wore a black band shirt and a worn out leather jacket he'd borrowed from their friend. He reached out a hand to the ten year old, Toki gratefully took the older boy's hand allowing him to help him to his feet.

“Thanks Skwisgaar....Yeah it happened again.”

Skwisgaar placed his hands on the younger boy's shoulders keeping him distant enough that he could get a good look at him. He looked like hell, but that wasn't really new. His clothes were nearly rags, he wore shorts despite how cold the weather was, and he apparently hadn't been able to grab shoes before he had run out of his home. The boy was staring up at him with blood shot ice blue eyes, his parted lips allowed Skwisgaar to see the ridiculous gap between his front teeth that they told him they would get fixed some day when they were all big rock stars. It was a dream the two of them and three of their close friends shared, most likely just that, a dream. Skwisgaar ruffled Toki's shaggy brown hair, the younger boy shoved his hand away and glared.

“Come on you can stay with me for a few days.”

“What about your mom?”

Toki hated feeling like he was intruding on his friends lives, it felt like every few weeks he was going from house to house. They took him in when they could and protected him, they protected each other.

“She's gone again, she left last night while I was sleeping...She should be gone for a week or two, even if she's back before then I don't fucking care. She brings strangers home all the time, I'm allowed to have my friends there. Pickle is staying with me already anyway.” 

He wrapped an arm around the younger boy's shoulders as they began walking. Skwisgaar doubted Toki's father would come looking for him, but it was better if they got away from some place so open just in case. Skwisgaar was pretty sure he would go off on the priest, he was grateful Nathan wasn't around; he knew the black haired boy would definitely have no problem beating up the holy man.

“Did something happen to him too?” Toki asked curiously.

He felt calmer the further away they got from his home.

“His dad hit him again too, he won't really talk about it though. I think he's going to move out.”

“Where would he go?”

“I'm not sure, if I didn't have the house to myself so damn much I'd do the same fucking thing.”

Toki nodded in agreement. He figured by the time he was thirteen he would leave his parents' home, he was never too sure where he would go. He knew that for now he had his four friends, but he feared some day they would just go off in their own directions, or get tired of looking after him. 

Half way to Skwisgaar's house he ended up carrying the younger boy on his back. There was no way in hell he was going to let him walk through so much snow bare foot, besides his feet looked like they were just waiting to get infections in all the cuts and open blisters anyway. He knew he'd be spending the night cleaning his friend's wounds while supplying his other friend with vodka from his mother's secret stash. When they reached home they found Pickles and Nathan sitting on the couch, both boys with controllers in their hands and eyes locked on the small screen of the TV. Skwisgaar paid little attention to the flashing of the video game they were immersed so deeply in. They barely looked his way when they heard the door open then click shut.

“Toki with you?” Nathan asked eyes still on the TV.

Skwisgaar set the boy down on the ground.

“Yeah I found him under a tree, you know the drill; go get bathed, wear some of my clothes instead of those shit fucking rags your parents make you wear, and then I'll help you with those cuts. Alright?”

“Okay....Thanks Skwis.” The younger boy replied softly

He kept his eyes averted and stood there awkwardly for a second before leaving the room to go and do what he'd done a hundred times before. Skwisgaar went over to the recliner that sat by the love seat. He ran his fingers back through his wavy blond hair and sighed heavily. 

“I'm worried about him.” He confessed.

Nathan turned his attention away from the video game at that comment.

Skwisgaar noticed the automatic tension in his friend's body language. Even at thirteen his face had rough 'I've seen some shit' features to it, his deep green eyes and thick black eyebrows were always set in an annoyed fashion. His choppy short black hair was thankfully finally starting to grow longer, he had broad shoulders, and the body of a football player. His father had high hopes Nathan would get better in school, go to college, and go pro. Nathan had completely different plans, but his father still held out this dying dream like hope that his son had an actual love for sports instead of pretending he liked them just so his dad would say he was proud.

“His father's a fucking dildo, so is his mom. I don't get why she's with him.”

“She's crazy dude, fucking religious fanatics. Had a ton of them back where I lived.” Pickles commented.

As the oldest in their group of friends they somehow assumed Pickles knew the most. He was sixteen years old and continued to fail his sophomore year twice so far. His gel filled red hair was spiked in all directions in a failed attempt to be a more bad ass version of Sid Vicious, the white shirt he wore had spots of blood on it from a fight he'd been in at school the other day. His swollen left eye was looking better than it had been, but it still made Skwisgaar inwardly cringe to see his friend beaten up. He didn't know for sure what had happened to him, but he assumed it had something to do with Pickles' father's habit of drinking hard liquor daily and being aggressively ashamed of his youngest son.

“It's fucking stupid, why can't he just live with you or something.” Nathan said turning his attention back to the TV.

“He's still a kid, his parents would probably never let him out of the house if they even knew that he came here.”

He feared there would be a day they would know about his friends, know about the black metal records they let him listen to, and the horror movies the five of them sat and watched together. He didn't want there to be a day he would hear Toki's family moved away to keep him from 'bad influences', he wanted to keep his friend safe.

“If you would just let me beat his dad's fucking face in we wouldn't have these problems....Ha fuck you dude.” 

“Oh fuck off, giant bag of fucking dicks.” Pickles muttered irritated.

Nathan smirked at him, he grabbed the bottle from his hand and took a drink for himself then passed it over to Skwisgaar. He was about to start on the topic of Toki's horrible parents when the brunette came back into the living room wearing clothes that were too big for him, but cleaner and newer than whatever it was that he'd been wearing before. He looked less like a street rat now that he was cleaned up, he still had problems meeting any of his friends eyes right now. He got that way anytime they found him or he came to them after his parents punished him. He got quiet, wouldn't look at anybody, and would just quietly watch them do whatever they were doing at the moment. This time was no different. Toki sat on the floor with his back against the chair that Skwisgaar was sitting on. The blond took another drink before handing the bottle back to Nathan. He knew he needed to clean Toki's wounds, but he would give it a little while. There was no real hurry, he was in away from the cold and he knew how much Toki hated people touching him so soon after he got away from his home.

The youngest of their group of friends sat there content, trying to gather parts of his mind as he watched his two friends fight over video games. He felt relaxed when he realized he was safe here. His father didn't know about his friends, he didn't know where Skwisgaar lived. As far as he knew his son was in the streets or freezing to death in the snow, somewhere bad. Nobody bad would find him here, nobody in this house would hurt him. He smiled to himself when he fully realized this. He loved his friends, he was grateful to have met them. 

“Dude does your mom have any beer around here?” A thick lisping voice yelled from the kitchen.

Skwisgaar hit his head against the back of the chair and groaned.

“No we don't have beer, she only kept that cause some other guy liked it. Don't eat all my fucking food either!” 

“I wasn't, I don't even like half of this fucking crap.” Murderface yelled back.

They heard a cabinet slam shut, glass break, and then Murderface came into the living room. He sat down on the floor next to Toki, he folded his arms across his chest and huffed throwing a silent fit. Nobody paid much attention, Skwisgaar wasn't really sure why he was there. He remembered waking up at one in the morning to the sound of somebody pounding on the front door, when he opened it Murderface had shoved his way inside complaining about his grandmother being a cranky old bitch, and then proceeding to ask if there was anything to eat this time. Skwisgaar didn't mind giving his friends a refuge, but most times he was pretty sure the boy with the curly brown hair and too much body hair for a fifteen year old only came by for free food and to ogle his mom. Skwisgaar wasn't entirely pleased with either, but there were times he could get along with him. Today was one of the days he could just tolerate him.

Toki didn't fully mind him. He never really got why the others called him Murderface, but they had known him longer. He was pretty sure that his first name was William, but nobody called him that unless they were angry with him. He sort of found him funny when he was angry and complaining, which seemed to be all of the time. Toki didn't really have anything against any of his friends. They were like a family to him, a real one. They kept him safe, they showed him new things, they fed him, and gave him clothes to wear. They never insulted him or physically harmed him, they just treated him like a younger brother. He thought about what Nathan and Skwisgaar always said; that some day when they were all older they would start a death metal band. Nathan was positive they would be famous by the time they were all in their twenties, he could never say why he felt that way, but when he said it they could all nearly believe it was true.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not sure how grand of an ending this is to such a morbid and slightly complicated tale, but thank you to everybody who has read it either way. This is the ending I had been thinking of from early on while writing this, in a way I think it is fitting.


End file.
